


The Key to Happiness

by Zamire



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-25
Updated: 2013-07-14
Packaged: 2017-12-16 03:24:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 30,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/857208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zamire/pseuds/Zamire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After her father, Ned Stark died, Arya fell into a pit of despair, and has only just started getting out of it. Gendry doesn't know what he wants, let alone what he wants to be. When Arya moves in with Jon and his rather stubborn roommate, things change for both of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Arya Stark stared outside the car, idly watching the world go by. She didn't mind the silence, as it had been her friend for many years. It was nice to see the world again, after all. The amount of days which Arya had spent in the hospital was countless, yet now she was out, and her mother had demanded her to go back to Winterfell, to Jon and Robb and Theon.

"I think it'll be good for you," Catelyn Stark had said, with tears in her eyes. The conversation had been in the hospital, a few days before she was about to leave.

"No," Arya snapped, "it won't. You don't find it easy to even look at Winterfell when you visit Edmure, so why would I find it easy to live there?"

Yet she had gone either way, to live with Jon, her half-brother and his roommate, who Jon had assured her, was extremely nice and would understand. Understand what? Arya wanted to demand at the time, but she didn't. If there was one person who she trusted, it was Jon, who she loved even more than her father. Had loved, Arya corrected herself dimly, denial is the worst thing.

After she left the hospital, her mother had driven her home to pack her things.

"Sansa will be taking you," Catelyn had told her, folding a particularly nice pair of jeans. "She's coming down from Highgarden especially."

Arya wanted to ask why, but she didn't.

"I also…I didn't know if I should've…" her mother began, "I enrolled you in the university."

"Wasn't I already enrolled? I thought Tyrion Lannister taught my mythology class."

"He does."

"Does?" Arya echoed, and when she realised she wanted to crawl back to the hospital and stay there for a few more weeks. "So I'm still doing the same classes?"

Catelyn Stark pursed her lips and nodded. "I thought it would be good for you."

The closer Arya got to Winterfell, the more she hated the idea of attending university. After Ned Stark had died, she missed so much school that the teachers had eventually given up. Even when Arya did go to school, she couldn't concentrate, and would often sit at the back with her head in her arms. Lommy and Hot Pie had done their best to comfort her, yet she grew to loathe their company. It had been a blessing to her when Catelyn announced that they would be moving to Riverrun.

At Riverrun it had been no better. Arya had felt awful, as she watched her family slowly crumble while she watched emotionlessly. The worst part was everyone continued to do everything, while Arya couldn't. There was no energy to get up out of bed and do anything. So she stayed at home, inside, left alone with her thoughts and silence. It was almost annoying that Sansa had it worse, because of Joffrey Baratheon.

Yet Sansa Stark had taken it all in her stride, and now, as Arya watched her sister drive them both to Winterfell, she couldn't help but note that Sansa was the one better off. Her sister had moved to Highgarden after awhile, and moved in with Margaery Tyrell and her brother Loras.

"Why are you staring?" Sansa asked quietly, as they drove through the rain. It made Arya smile slightly to see the rain pouring down. When her sister saw that she wasn't going to respond, Sansa sighed. "Arya…" she began.

"Don't," Arya interjected. "You don't need to say anything."

"You know that's not true. I do need to say something…you look like you're going to cry if I don't."

"Do not."

Her sister smiled slightly, and yet again Arya felt a pang in her chest as she was reminded that Sansa was the prettier one. Theon Greyjoy, her older brother's Robb's best mate, had always said so. Then again Theon had dated Sansa for a period of time, which was something Arya didn't particularly want to remember. He's better than Joffrey, she thought, anyone is, after what he did to Sansa. Joffrey Baratheon, the son of her father's closest friend, had been the worst thing to happen to them, other than the asshole's father.

When Robert Baratheon had died, his will demanded that Ned Stark take over the Baratheon Corporations. Naturally, his beautiful wife Cersei Lannister had refused, stating that Joffrey was the rightful 'heir', as she called it, to Baratheon Corporations. At that time, Arya thought nothing of it, and simply continued going to high school and preparing for university. Yet the stress took hold of her father, or at least that's what Catelyn claimed. Sometimes, Arya swore that Sansa gave subtle hints that it wasn't just stress and everything else that ended their father's life, yet she had never looked into it.

Soft snow was beginning to form on the side of the road, a clear sign that Winterfell was approaching. Arya found herself gazing at the scruffy address written on a piece of paper. Jon had promised her that there was another room in the house he shared with a mate, and that the mate could cook.

"Cook?" Arya had repeated on the phone, when she heard.

"Yeah, he's not the best," Jon told her, "but he's better than me…and certainly better than you."

When her brother had said that, she offered him a quiet laugh, and could practically feel him smiling through the phone.

That was how it was when she laughed, or even smiled. Her family would look all proud and pleased, even though sometimes Arya just faked it to reassure them that everything was fine. Everything was fine, though, it was just she sometimes forgot to be happy, if that was possible.

"We're nearly there," Sansa said suddenly, and when Arya looked out of the window she saw it was true. Houses had appeared, some small and others big, and light snow was beginning to fall. To her, it felt like home.

It took them several more minutes to reach Jon's house, and when they did Arya stared at it for awhile, even after Sansa got out of the car. This is your home now, she told herself as she got out of the car and dragged her luggage out. The door was already open when Arya reached the front step, and Sansa was talking to Jon politely.

"She's got all her stuff here, so…" Her sister seemed unsure how to continue, which was understandable. Sansa Stark had always hated their half-brother.

"Little sister." Jon was smiling as he approached her, and he hugged her straight away. Arya hugged him back, feeling unsure. Sansa simply watched awkwardly, her hands clutched together tightly. "Let's get your stuff in." She watched as her brother effortlessly lifted the suitcase and carried it inside.

"Arya…" Sansa began, but hesitated. "I hope you feel happier here," she said, and quickly hugged her.

"Thanks, Sansa," Arya said honestly, smiling a little. Her older sister nodded, before hurrying into the car. Jon appeared behind her a moment later.

"Come inside, it's getting cold," he told her.

"Cold?" Arya said, laughing slightly. "This isn't cold."

"You're a true Stark."

Arya said nothing, and instead followed him inside. The apartment was messy, but when she thought back to the time she had visited Robb and Theon's, it only made sense. There were dirty dishes in the dish rack, and the rubbish bins were all filled. To Arya's delight, there were a lot of posters and photos stuck up around the walls. She spotted one of Jon with a dark haired and bright blue eyed man.

"Is that your room mate?" she asked, pointing to the photo. They looked like they were in King's Landing, which surprised Arya. She never expected Jon to be there, of all places.

"Yeah, he took me to King's Landing one time. His name's Gendry. Gendry Waters."

"He looks alright."

Jon laughed, before ruffling her hair. "Alright? That's a bit harsh, little sister. Now do you want to see your room or not?" He led her up the stairs, and on the second floor there looked to be four rooms, one of them a bathroom. Jon showed her his room, which had clothes everywhere and had the same items as it had when he lived with them – a few photos, some posters, his guitar and not much else. The other room, which was Gendry's, was fairly plain, except for the vast amount of clothes strewn across the floor.

"Do you guys know how to do washing?" Arya demanded sourly.

"Not really," Jon admitted, laughing.

Her room was at the end of the floor, and was small yet…fine. It had a double bed, like Gendry and Jon's room, with a desk, dresser and mirror. Even though it contained nothing personal, Arya couldn't help but smile as she went in and lay on the bed. She had never had her own room, as Sansa and her had shared in Winterfell and when they moved to Riverrun. Yet this was hers, all hers.

"I got an email from Tyrion Lannister the other day," Jon said suddenly, and he sounded uneasy. Arya felt uneasy simply thinking of her mythology professor.

"What did it say?" she asked.

"Nothing much, just apologising about everything's that happened and asking if you were ready for this semester."

"Why couldn't he email me, not you?"

Jon laughed at her. "No one knows your email, little sister. Don't you remember?"

Yes, Arya did remember. She remembered telling Theon her email, because he wanted to send her something. Then she had gotten all these stupid emails asking if she was single from his horny friends. She had never quite forgiven Theon because of that, or a lot of other things. After that incident, Arya changed her email extremely quickly, and told no one except Lommy and Hot Pie. Yet they're gone, she thought sadly.

Jon left her alone for the rest of the day, and Arya spent it unpacking and reading the textbooks for mythology she had got in Riverrun. She didn't want to touch her graphics notes yet. Instead, Arya sketched a few designs for some characters in her notepad to save for later. It had been years since she had worked on her game, for she completely stopped when Ned died. Now, though, it seemed only fitting to keep drawing up the designs, as she was taking graphics in university.

The sun began to set, and Arya heard Jon calling her down, claiming Gendry was home. She went downstairs, feeling tired and bored of the information her brain had read. Jon's roommate, Gendry, was chatting to him about some class or another, while getting out ingredients for some sort of meal. When he saw her, though, he stopped, and smiled unsurely.

"You're Arya, right?" he asked, holding out a rather large hand.

"Who else would I be?" Arya retorted moodily, and for a moment she saw Jon falter and smile. It's because the 'old Arya' is showing, or whatever they call it, she thought. Truthfully, she had no idea where that retort came from.

Gendry frowned and smiled at the same time, withdrawing his hand. "Right, I'm Gendry Waters…you're brothers roommate."

She liked how he didn't say half-brother, yet she knew it was probably because it was a bit of a mouthful.

"What's for dinner?" Arya asked him, even though it was rather rude.

"Pasta," Jon told her, going to sit on the couch. "If you don't like it, order some pizza."

"Since when don't I like pasta?" she demanded.

Her brother rolled his eyes. "I'm not sure, but you've always been fussy. Robb tells me all these stories about you eating when you were younger."

"Are you sure you're not mistaking Robb for Theon?"

Jon and Gendry laughed, and Arya flushed, moving to go back upstairs. It felt weird, she realised, being around these two. She had never felt uncomfortable around Jon, yet…it was different this time. They both eyed her like she would break down at any moment, and truthfully Arya felt like she would break down at any moment. She wanted Nymeria, yet her dog had mysteriously disappeared after Robert Baratheon died. Ghost, Jon's dog, was at Ygritte's, who according to Jon was looking after him. Whoever Ygritte is, she thought sourly.

Arya stayed in her room, sketching designs until Jon called her for dinner. They all sat on the couch, yet no one made any move to turn on the television. She found herself briefly remembering her mum lecturing them about watching T.V while eating. Surely Jon didn't care for that, or Gendry? Yet the two men were beginning to talk about classes, something Arya didn't want to think about.

"What classes are you taking, Arya?" Gendry asked, while chewing his food.

She wanted to lecture him on eating with his mouth open, until she realised she simply didn't care. "Mythology and graphics."

"I heard Tyrion Lannister's really good," he told her, "if it makes a difference."

"It doesn't," Arya said shortly, a bit peeved that Jon seemed to have told bloody Gendry Waters everything.

"It should," he said stubbornly, his jaw set, "and for graphics…I'm not sure of the teachers. I think Olenna Tyrell used to teach some of the arts."

"Nah, she quit," Jon interjected, "not sure who teaches it now."

Jon and Gendry began to discuss teachers, leaving Arya to her own thoughts. She kind of liked listening to them argue and bicker, and she realised that Gendry was as stubborn as herself, never shifting from his opinion. Arya found that she kind of liked that about him.

"Who's Ygritte?" she asked suddenly, interrupting their conversation.

Her brother and his stubborn roommate exchanged glances, before bursting out laughing.

"What?" Arya demanded fiercely.

"It's nothing," Gendry told her through his laughs, "it's just…don't you know?"

"What?"

"That Ygritte and Jon…are fucking?"

For a moment her brother stopped laughing to glare at Gendry, clearly disliking his language. Arya didn't care, though.

"You're fucking this woman?" she asked.

"Don't say it like that," Jon said, rolling his eyes. "And yes, I am."

"When did you get so…brave and not...scared of girls?"

"Since when has he been scared of girls?" Gendry interjected, clearly looking for a story or two.

For a moment Arya considered shutting them both out, telling them to grow up. She would then go to bed feeling sad and lonely, the way it usually was. Instead, she smiled. "He always used to turn bright red – look there he goes."

True to her word, Jon was turning bright red, and he instantly turned away when he found both of them looking at him.

"Well, you don't seem him come out of his room bright red with Ygritte," Gendry told her, laughing.

Jon began to protest, beginning a list of all the woman Gendry had supposedly fucked.

"I don't want to hear it," Arya snapped, yet she was smiling. She got up and went to the small kitchen, which was joined to the living and dining room.

"There's a lot," Jon continued, ignoring her. "Seriously, little sister, if you think I'm bad…"

"She was saying you were a blushing little boy, not some…" Gendry seemed at a loss for words.

"Man whore?" Arya offered, washing her plate. "I'm going to bed now, I've had enough of hearing who you two have slept with."

They both shouted various forms of good night at her as she climbed the stairs and went to her room. When Arya finished having her shower and slid into bed, she suddenly felt alone and sad all over again. It had been nice, she realised, laughing like that with Jon and Gendry. Yet she still felt awful all over again.

"It happens all the time," Arya remembered herself telling Jaqen H'ghar, her old psychologist. "I'm talking to someone…and suddenly everything's all great and I'm laughing…yet when I'm alone, I remember everything bad I've done, that my father's dad, that Sansa cries herself to sleep at night and I can barely function."

Jaqen had simply looked at her, with those weird eyes of his that Arya swore sometimes changed colour. "A girl is confused," he finally said.

"Yes, I am! Because I want to be happy, I want to be like my family, getting along perfectly fine. Instead I'm all stupid and pathetic and weak."

"A girl isn't weak, simply…lost. Find a way to seek…happiness. A girl's own way."

Yet Arya hadn't found her own way of happiness still, even after nearly eighteen months of talking to Jaqen. He was a good psychologist and all, even with his weird way of talking, yet sometimes she felt like no one could help her.

She felt like crying, and suddenly she kept thinking and thinking. When Arya looked at her clock, she saw it was nearly two in the morning. It took a lot of energy to get up and go to the toilet, and then to go downstairs to get a drink. The lights had been turned off, yet she found the switch easily enough and poured herself a glass of water. Around her, more lights suddenly turned on, and Arya swung around to see Gendry standing by the stairs, looking incredibly disgruntled, his dark hair all messed up. Arya did her best to ignore the fact that he didn't have a top on.

"Sorry," he muttered quickly, "I just saw the lights on and I was wondering if…" Gendry stopped when he saw her expression. "Are you okay?"

No, Arya wanted to scream, but she smiled slightly. "Just…y'know," she said."

"No, sorry…I don't really know. Jon hasn't told me much."

"Oh yeah?" she retorted. "That's not what it seems like. You seem to know my whole bloody life story."

"I don't," he said immediately, and Arya was shocked to see his blue eyes full of honesty. "He's only told me that you were hospitalised, and a few other things. So no, I really don't know how you feel."

Arya found herself going over to the couch to sit down, and to her surprise Gendry followed her. She stopped short.

"What are you doing?" she demanded.

"You look upset."

"So?"

There was a silence for a second, where Arya found herself glaring up at him. He was taller than her, like everyone else.

"Do you want me to get Jon?" Gendry finally asked.

She shook her head slowly. "No, it's fine."

Her brother's roommate laughed. "One minute you're all catty and next you're calm."

"So?"

This only seemed to make him laugh harder, and Arya glared at him. He stopped laughing, yet he was still smiling that annoying grin.

"What do you want me to do?" he asked, sitting down on the couch.

Arya sat down next to him. "Tell me about Ygritte," she said suddenly.

"Ygritte?" Gendry laughed. "She's very…blunt. You'd get along with her, I think. I mean, you seem all sullen, but you've got that…blunt way about you too."

She didn't know if that was a compliment or not, so she ignored it. "Is she pretty?"

"I suppose," he admitted, "not my type, though."

Arya rolled her eyes. The amount of men who had said that, and then looked suggestively at her was countless. Yet Gendry didn't give her any look afterwards, instead he looked almost thoughtful.

They sat in silence for awhile, yet it wasn't awkward. "Do you miss your father?" Gendry finally asked quietly. "You don't have to answer."

Arya thought for a moment. "Yeah…I suppose," she told him, "it doesn't really get any better, like people say. You just kinda…slowly grow almost immune to it, I guess. Well, at least that's what everyone else did. I seem to just be some stupid vulnerable person."

He was quiet for a moment. "It's not stupid...everyone gets upset. When my dad died, I was really upset. I didn't speak to anyone for days…it was worse that...well, my mum...she didn't tell me exactly who my dad was until he died."

"So you didn't know who your dad was your whole life...?"

"No…my mum often spoke of him harshly, saying he was a vicious drunk. When he died, she told me...I didn't really know what to think."

"I'm sorry," Arya said honestly.

"Don't be. I got over him dying…it's like you said, really. It never gets better, you just slowly…realise that they wouldn't want to see you upset," Gendry replied, sighing slightly. "Anyway, I don't think you should be up this late."

"I'm not a little girl!" she snapped, standing up instantly, and he laughed.

"You look like one," Gendry commented offhandedly, before quickly standing up to avoid her hitting him. It happened so quickly, that she didn't see it. Suddenly they were chasing each other around the couch, Arya threatening to hit him, Gendry simply laughing.

For the first time in much too long, she felt free.


	2. Chapter 2

The incident between him and Arya had either been forgotten or pointedly ignored, something which Gendry Waters couldn't help but agree with. It wasn't really embarrassing, it was more…personal and intimate. Jon clearly didn't know, something which Gendry was thankful for yet again. He didn't want his roommate thinking something was going on. Besides, he was far too busy to even take notice of Jon Snow's little sister, or half -sister, or whatever it was.

Gendry hated university at the moment, which he knew was common for a lot of people. When he had called his mum and told her what he felt, she had told him that it was common, and nearly everyone went through it. He didn't care, though, for why should he do something if he didn't enjoy it? At the moment, Gendry was taking an engineering course, which he found utterly dull and boring. In high school, nearly everyone had told him that it would be perfect for him. It was far from that, though.

Jon often told him that people never really found out what they wanted to do for awhile, and that was Gendry's problem. He didn't know what he wanted to do. How could he, when for most of his high school life he had just been trying to get by? Most people had a vague clue when they reached their senior years, ideas of becoming actresses and successful lawyers and all of that stuff. Gendry knew Jon was in a band, yet he was still pursuing sociology, something which he thought sounded boring.

He came home for university one evening, extremely tired. After his classes, a few of his mates had decided to drag him along to a pub, yet Gendry had left fairly quickly. Alcohol brought back memories, as did the smell of cigarettes, so he avoided both as much as possible. Of course he would have a beer every now and then, but spirits…

"You're home," a voice from the couch said, and Gendry turned to see Arya sitting on their torn down couch, crawled into a ball with a bowl of popcorn beside her. Some silly sitcom was playing, yet it was clear she wasn't watching it.

"Yeah," he replied, kicking off his shoes and dumping his bag near the door. As usual, he went straight to the kitchen, and began to rummage through the cupboards.

"I ate all the chips," he heard her quiet voice tell him. "And the ice-cream…and the leftover pizza…"

Gendry couldn't help but smile. "Well, then, what is there?" he asked, his voice teasing. "Or did you eat it all?"

"I haven't finished the popcorn yet. I haven't started on the packet of Mars Bars either."

He didn't reply, and instead opened the cupboard which contained all the chocolate items. There was a large packet of Mars Bars inside, which Gendry snatched up and made his way towards the couch. Arya sat in the middle of the couch, watching the sitcom emotionlessly.

"You don't seriously find this stuff…interesting, do you?" he asked, unsure as he sat down next to her. She looked up at him, a slight smile on her face.

"Of course not," she said seriously. "It's just…distracting."

Gendry nodded, uncertain if he should comfort her. He couldn't tell if she was upset – he just wasn't good at that stuff. If Jon were here, he'd know what to do, what to say. "Where's Jon?" Arya asked suddenly, grabbing the Mars Bar packet and ripping it open. She opened two of the Mars Bars and stuffed them in her mouth. Gendry began to wonder how she was so skinny, when at the moment she was eating like a pig. The last few nights she certainly hadn't shown such an appetite.

"I thought you knew," he told her, grabbing a Mars Bar as well. "He might be at band practise."

She nodded, still watching the T.V screen idly. "He likes her, y'know," Arya said suddenly, and Gendry stared at her.

"What?" he spluttered, frowning. "What are you talking about?"

"The sitcom, you idiot."

"Me? An idiot? You just suddenly said something completely out of topic! And besides, I thought you said you didn't enjoy it."

Arya seemed thoughtful for a minute. Jon had told him before she arrived that Arya had never been thoughtful before, or quiet, or…withdrawn. It felt weird, to see her like this, when from all the stories she was loud and feisty and fierce. Not in a sexual way, or anything like that.

"Well?" Gendry demanded stubbornly. "You said you didn't like it?"

"I watched it a lot…in the hospital," she finally admitted quietly. "So…I suppose I know what it's all about. Which was what I was trying to say." For a second, the flash of feisty Arya appeared on her face.

He sighed. "What were you trying to say, then?"

"See that girl?" She pointed to someone on screen, but it quickly flashed to someone else.

"The brunette?"

"No. The blonde, you idiot."

"Right…" Gendry said, watching her. She was glaring at him, as if he had done everything wrong.

"That girl. Anyway, she likes this guy…though she denies it…I just know, y'know, I can see it in her eyes," Arya told him seriously.

"You do realise this is a sitcom, right?"

For a moment there was silence, before she smiled sadly. "I know."

Gendry found himself sitting next to her, eating too many Mars Bars, listening to her rant all about this sitcom. She looked sad, yet didn't, and sometimes she looked so pissed and then the next minute she looked close to tears. When he saw her with that sombre expression, Gendry gently insisted that she go on, which would then lead to another speech about how Cathy or whatever her name is was in love with Benjamin.

.

Gendry woke up to loud swearing and the smell of burnt food. He was extraordinarily tired, and maybe just a bit hung-over. Despite having promised himself last night that he wouldn't have much to drink, the idea of forgetting everything had just been…appealing. Now, his precious sleep time had been destroyed, and what time was it? It was hard to drag himself out of bed and down the stairs, but he managed.

He was not expecting to find Arya Stark standing in the middle of the kitchen, her hair all messed up and in her pyjamas, surrounding by smoke and trying desperately to blow it away. She looked furious, and hadn't even noticed him enter the small kitchen.

"What are you doing?" Gendry finally asked, sounding as pissed off as he felt.

Arya jumped in surprise, and turned around to face him. "I was trying to do something nice for once, but as usual it failed!" she yelled, kicking the stove and pretending it didn't work by walking out. Jon was coming down the stairs as she stormed out, and stared in shock at the mess.

It did look messy, Gendry couldn't help but notice. There was batter – of what, he didn't know – splattered all over the bench and the stove…well, there was smoke and he could clearly smell something burnt.

"What happened?" Jon asked when he entered the kitchen. His roommate looked as tired as he felt.

"Who knows?" he snapped, feeling tired and annoyed and – god, his head was killing him.

"Look, could you clean this up? I'll go comfort Arya."

Why would she need comforting? the annoyed, pissed off Gendry thought.

"Fine."

Jon left Gendry staring at the kitchen, until finally he cleared the smoke away and stared at the frypan on the stove. It looked like stupid Arya had tried to make pancakes, tried being the operative word. In the frypan was burnt batter, and it looked as black as…well, something. He ignored his annoying thoughts and set to work scrubbing the frypan free of mix. After he had done his best, he realised that there was still a lot of the mix left, sitting on the bench. It didn't look too bad, so Gendry decided to use it. Within minutes, he had one pancake sitting on a plate, smelling pretty damn delicious, if he didn't say so himself.

After a few more pancakes appeared onto the plate, Jon came down the stairs, with Arya trailing behind him. She looked sad, yet it didn't look like she had been crying. Then again, Gendry remembered Jon telling him that his little sister had mastered the art of hiding her tears, though god knows how. For a moment they all stared at each other, Jon looking tired yet smiling slightly, Arya with her bed hair looking furious, and Gendry…well, he could only presume he looked as hung over as he felt.

"I'm sorry," Arya said suddenly out of no where. "I just woke up and I thought it would be nice to make pancakes…"

Jon seemed to be waiting for him to accept her apology. Gendry stared at her, unsure what to do.

"Its fine," he finally bit out, yet even so he hurried up the stairs and slammed the door shut. He threw himself onto his unmade bed, and closed his eyes, ready to get some sleep. That was until he heard the door to his room open and felt something soft hit his face. When Gendry opened his eyes, he saw Arya standing in the doorway, holding a pillow which she promptly threw at him.

"I said I was sorry, you stubborn bull!" she screamed, storming out.

Gendry found he couldn't stop himself from laughing, and maybe it was his imagination, but he could've sworn he heard her laughing too.

.

Things were…slightly tense after the pancake incident, despite it being nearly a week ago. Gendry was surprised that it had been nearly a month since Arya had arrived, and that university would start in a few days for her. It was clear she wasn't looking forward to it, and he often found Jon and Arya arguing about it. Lately, she had been even sadder and annoyed, which stressed Jon which then stressed Gendry, and he didn't like it. In a way, he wished that she had never arrived.

Now, though, he had no time to deal with Arya. The only times he had really talked to her was on the first night, and then about a week from then when they watched the sitcom. Did the pancake incident count? No, he didn't really think it did. Gendry was glad that was all, though, because around him she seemed less sad and more…annoyed, and yes, he was stubborn, which meant that he often found himself insulting her or riling her up. When he told Jon that he was worried he would one day say something stupid to hurt her, his roommate had laughed.

"I don't think she's really offended by anything you say, Gendry," he had said honestly.

"Why? You've heard her on the phone with her family, and she always gets offended by simple things," Gendry said.

Jon shrugged. "Maybe it's because that in a way you're strangers…so she just goes with it. Either way, it's good for her, I think."

Maybe it was, but was it good for him? Sometimes he just got a bit stressed by the scrawny girl living in their house, who just seemed to remain scrawny despite sometimes binging on junk food.

Gendry sighed. He needed to focus on university, and on the lecture that was happening right now, not some stupid arguments. Yet it was so boring, and he couldn't help but yawn as Selmy Barristan started rambling on a different tangent about mechanics. The people around him turned and glared, and Gendry felt pissed all over again. Of course they would glare at him, because they enjoyed being there and had bright ideas of their future and were pursuing them, but him? He was just sitting in a class he hated, trying to get through it each day. When it finally hit four o'clock, Selmy stopped the lecture.

"Alright, everyone, that's all for now. Make sure to look over the notes you just took, for it will be on your mid-year exam," he told them all.

Gendry looked down at his notebook. Oh. The realisation hit him like a dead body. He hadn't taken any notes. Had he even been listening? What had the lecture even been about? He hurriedly picked up his stuff, jamming it in his backpack and preparing to leave.

"Gendry?" Selmy called when he had just reached the door. "May I speak to you for a moment?"

He turned around and walked back towards the lecturer, who looked old and tired and sad.

"What?" Gendry asked, trying his best not to sound impolite. He craved alcohol…and a cigarette. Oh, a cigarette would be bliss.

"You seemed…distracted. In fact, every time I do a lecture, you always look bored and just…stressed."

For a moment he was speechless. Had someone noticed? Gendry thought he had done a pretty good job at hiding his obvious displeasure at the subject. "Oh…" he mumbled pathetically, feeling loss at words. "Well…I just…" He couldn't help but think of Arya, and the way she always told Jon exactly what was wrong and why. Or at least, that was what Jon had told him. "I hate this subject," Gendry blurted out, and suddenly he couldn't stop. "I'm bored, I hate it, I hate looking around and seeing everyone so fascinated and interested with their choice, and I'm just sitting here waiting for this whole damn thing to end! Everyone has these bright ideas of what they're going to do and I don't even know what I enjoy doing. I just want to…I just want to be happy doing something I'm good at."

Selmy stared at him, yet it wasn't judgemental or anything of the sort. Instead, the old lecturer smiled softly. "Gendry…you'd be surprised by the amount of people who feel the exact same as you. Not everyone is certain what they're going to do."

"But most have at least a vague idea!" he interrupted loudly, not caring if he sounded rude.

"Yes, that is true. It doesn't matter if you don't, though. You just have to keep searching for what makes you happy." The lecturer looked at him. "What makes you happy?"

Gendry thought for a moment. "Friends…family...cooking, partying…"

"Cooking?" Selmy pressed. "Does that interest you?"

"It's a hobby…not something I've been looking into as a job."

"Look, Gendry…I'll tell you what. You can drop out of engineering this semester if you pass the mid-year exams. I'll give you the notes for this lecture, because it's clear that you didn't take any. Try and look into things that fascinate you, or that you enjoy doing. It doesn't matter if it sounds stupid or if you think it's a hobby. Just get through the rest of this term, and then the next, and that's it."

Gendry frowned. He didn't really want to finish this term and then do another. That was…a lot of time spent in something he didn't want to do. "Can't I just drop out completely?"

Selmy stared at him. "I'm not going to let a student waste their future away," he said firmly, before turning back to his desk. "That will be all, Gendry."

He left, closing the door behind him. All around him, people walked around with smiles on their faces, laughing, all prepared for their happy futures. Gendry grabbed his phone, and pressed in a number he had learnt off by heart many years ago. It rang only a few times before she answered.

"Gendry?" His mum sounded happy, yet worried. He only ever called her when something was bothering him or…

"Mum," he whispered, hurrying out of the university main hall until he was outside. Barely anyone was out, as most had finished their classes or lectures.

"What's up?"

"Look, mum…I just…you know how I hate the engineering class I'm doing…"

"Yeah, of course. Why?"

"I was…I just…I don't know what I want to do anymore," Gendry admitted, walking through the grounds of the university. "I just want to…do something, but I don't know what."

His mum laughed through the phone. "You were always like that, baby. One minute you wanted to be a fire fighter, the next a famous actor…"

Gendry ignored the fact that his mother called him baby and he was, what, twenty five years old? "Yeah…I know…but…what do you think I should do?"

"It's not about what I think. It's about what you want, and I know you don't know…but just keeping looking. I'm sure one day you'll just wake up and know."

"Is that what happened to you?" he asked, annoyed.

"No," his mum admitted, "but…you're different. You're stubborn, brave and the best son I could have ever asked for."

Gendry wanted to tell her that she actually didn't ask for him, but he didn't. "Thanks mum," he said instead. "I love you."

"I love you too, baby."

It was her who hung up, not him. He simply held the phone up to his ear, waiting for her to suddenly tell him what he would do in the future and he would realise that she was right and everything would make sense again. Instead, he put the phone away and went to buy some cigarettes and get piss drunk.

.

"You're going," Jon told her, for what must have been the fiftieth time. It was their regular argument about Arya going back to university in the next term. The term would start tomorrow, for gods sake, and she wasn't prepared to face anyone.

"Why should I?" Arya replied. "There's no point. I'll just work for you, right?"

"Work for me? Little sister, you can't sing or…do anything remotely musical."

"I'll be your manager."

Jon laughed at this, but she could tell that he wouldn't budge on the matter. She really was going to university, and going to face all those old friends of hers. Lommy and Hot Pie probably wouldn't recognise her, and Arya wouldn't blame them. Her long hair had been cut, and she had maintained that same style ever since Ned died. It was now short, and Arya also knew that she was a lot skinnier than before.

Either way, she didn't particularly want to be the manager of Jon's band anyway. She heard that they had one, Samwell Tarly, who Arya briefly remembered meeting. Their band wasn't all that well known either, even around Winterfell, and Theon used to often joke about 'the little lads trying to make music'.

"What's so bad about going back to uni anyway?" Gendry asked from the couch. Lately, Arya hadn't really been talking to him that much. He was sullen and withdrawn these days, and she knew he had started smoking. That was why Jon had decided that they would cook for tonight, to try and cheer him up.

"I don't get it," she had snapped. "Why can't he just…I don't know, what's even wrong with him?"

Jon rolled his eyes. "I'm not going to tell you that. I don't think you really have a leg to stand on either, sis."

That had ended their conversation, and now Arya found herself in a kitchen not really knowing what she was doing.

"Tyrion Lannister," she told Gendry, "and my old friends."

"You had friends?"

Arya growled while cutting some carrots up. "Yes, I did."

"You did," he repeated slowly, "so you don't now?"

"I do."  
"Name them. List them, in alphabetical order."

"Jaqen, Hot Pie, Lommy, Margaery, Roslin, Jeyne," she told him confidently, even though she had simply added those last three names in.

"That wasn't in alphabetical order," Gendry pointed out, and she suddenly wished he would go back to being all sad.

Instead of telling him that, Arya rolled her eyes, and resumed cutting the carrots. They were making a barley soup, or at least that was what Jon told her. She was just doing as the recipe said, cutting up different things while her brother hurried around the kitchen. Gendry was watching from the couch, amusement in his eyes for about the first time since the term had ended. He could be so stubborn and stupid sometimes, yet occasionally he was alright. Like that night when she first arrived and he had comforted her. They hadn't mentioned it all, and Arya planned to keep it like that. She didn't want Jon getting stupid ideas in his head about them being friends or something.

"I think we can add the vegetables now," her brother said nervously.

"Want me to check?" Gendry called out.

"No," Arya snapped, "yeah, just add them in. If it doesn't work, we'll just order pizza."

Jon laughed at this, and grabbed the chopping board to pour all the vegetables into the soup. It smelt alright, but then again she remembered a time when Bran had tried to cook something, and it smelt delicious at first…That was before the car accident, though, when Arya's younger brother had still been able to walk. After he had been hit by a car, they all thought that he would die, but he hadn't. He's too stubborn, like the rest of us, she thought, smiling slightly at the thought of her younger brother. Bran and Rickon were often forgotten beneath them all, as Robb had become some important business man and Sansa…ever since she had been young, it was always her in the spotlight. They were all back in Riverrun, still finishing school.

"Maybe I'll visit when I'm finished," Bran had told her, before she was about to leave to Winterfell.

"Maybe," Arya whispered, and for a moment she felt so sad. "I'll miss you."

He smiled. "I'll miss you too. Don't do anything too…outgoing."

"I think everyone would be glad if I did. They'd all cheer about how the 'old Arya's' back."

"What do you think of that?" Bran asked. He had always been the smart one, the observer.

"I hate it," she admitted, "because there is no old Arya. There's just me."

"I know, sister, I know."

Her goodbye with Rickon had been so…different, that it made Arya laugh. He had simply thrown himself at her and promised her that he would visit, and they would have a massive game of soccer, every one of them. Rickon was always moving, and the sportiest of them all. Even Theon sometimes complained about getting tired when they played a family game, and he was on the state football team.

"Shit!" Jon shouted suddenly, and Arya saw the soup was bubbling a lot. It suddenly started steaming, and she couldn't help but remember the pancake incident. Gendry hurried over, and turned the heat down on the stove, yet it was clear that most of the soup seemed a bit…burnt and thick.

"You two are so…stupid," he said, laughing slightly. She could smell the smoke in his breath, and it pissed her off.

"Oh, who cares?" Jon was smiling too, yet she saw nothing amusing about it. "We'll order pizza, like Arya said."

"Useless," she muttered, which only caused her brother and Gendry to laugh louder. Jon got the phone and dialled a number for the pizza, and began ordering his favourite, as well as hers and what she presumed to be Gendry's.

"I'll pick it up," Jon said, when he hung up. "It's going to be ready in about ten minutes, so I may as well leave now."

"I'll go," Arya offered suddenly. "I want to see Winterfell anyway." She hadn't really left the house, despite having arrived more than a month ago.

Her brother and Gendry exchanged glances. "You don't even have your license, though," Jon pointed out.

"Do so," she scoffed, "I got it in Riverrun. Besides, they won't bother fining me, because…I'm Ned Stark's daughter."

For a moment there was silence, before Gendry nodded. "Yeah, you'll be fine. Just don't take too long, I'm starving."

Arya rolled her eyes at him. "Yeah, yeah, whatever," she muttered, grabbing the car keys and money from the bench and heading outside.

"It's the usual place!" her brother shouted on her way out.

Jon's car was a crummy Ute, which looked battered and worn. She knew the only reason why he kept it was because it had been one of her father's old cars. As much as Jon wanted to deny it, he had loved Ned as much as she.

The car annoyingly smelt of smoke and peppermint, most likely from Jon's old habit of smoking. Or Gendry's newly earned habit of smoking. She started the car, and had to wait a bit for it to warm up, as it was so useless. When the engine was finally rumbling nicely, she drove off, going down Jon's street and heading out onto the main road. It felt weird, driving again. She hadn't since…since…did it even matter?

Rain was falling slightly, and Arya smiled. She loved how Winterfell was freezing. Riverrun was quite cold, but nowhere near as her home. Winterfell was always her home, even though she knew it wasn't her mother's and definitely not Sansa's. Sansa had no home, not really, and for that Arya pitied her. She knew her sister hadn't felt safe in a place since bloody Joffrey Baratheon had screwed everything up.

The pizza place was in the usual place, and when Arya got out of the car she couldn't help but note it smelt as nice as it always did. When she entered, there was a rather large line, so Arya sat down, picked up a trashy magazine and began to read. There was something interesting about the sitcom she watched, Watchers on the Wall. She had no idea why it was called that at all, but…it had been a favourite in the hospital.

She was totally engrossed in her reading, which was all about the actors of Watchers on the Wall and the bullshit about them, that she didn't notice the slightly large person stand over her, until he said her name.

"Arya?" His voice sounded lower, more…masculine, and when Arya looked up she prayed that she was actually hallucinating and she was back in the hospital, and none of this had ever happened, maybe she wasn't going to uni, maybe…

"Hot Pie," she greeted dully, when she apparently seemed to realise that this was in fact real.

"You look…different…"

Arya nearly snorted. "So do you," she commented offhandedly, and she meant it. Hot Pie was less…fat, and more…more muscle. He looked like a man, and she couldn't help but feel a bit nostalgic.

"Thanks," her old friend replied, clearly taking it as a compliment. "What are you doing here?"

"Picking up a pizza…you?"

"I work here…" He trailed off, seemingly unsure.

"That's nice," Arya said awkwardly. "Erm…well…"

"Your pizza's ready, by the way." With that, Hot Pie left, clearly sensing her unease. She got up and went to the counter, where he handed her two boxes which smelt delicious. Arya handed him the money, and when he gave her the change, she took a deep breath.

"Hot Pie…" she began, hesitant. "Look, how about…is your mobile number still the same?"

Her old friend looked surprise, but nodded eagerly. "Yeah, it is."

"I'll call you, then. It was nice seeing you…really, it was."

Arya left, hurrying out into the cold clutching the warm pizza boxes to her body desperately. When she finally entered the safety of the Ute, she breathed a sigh of relief. It hadn't gone…too badly, had it? She didn't know. Even before everything happened, she had never been that social, always too loud for everyone's liking. Not that it had stopped her, though.

She drove out of the car park, and drove home probably a bit too fast, but who cared, anyway? No one was here to lecture her. Her father was dead, her mother was…did Catelyn Stark even care about her? Sansa was just being polite, Robb and Rickon only barely tolerated her, Theon probably thought of her as Robb's annoying little sister, Jon…Jon was probably just putting up with her and Gendry…like he would care. She felt even more furious as she drove home, and how did she even get onto this tangent? Didn't Jaqen tell her that she should stop her self talk before it got out of control?

Arya felt sick when she got out of the car, appetite apparently lost. She stormed into the house.

"I'm back," she announced, far too loudly. Her voice sounded weird, like…like how it used to.

Jon and Gendry hurried into the room from the lounge, where they had been watching the T.V. They ripped open the boxes and got plates out, putting the pieces on their own plates. When Jon noticed that she was moving to take any, he frowned.

"Aren't you hungry, sis?" he asked, noticing her weird expression.

Arya glared at him. He looked concerned. "No," she snapped. Most things she ate came back up anyway, not that she had told her brother or his annoying roommate that. It had been happening for ages now, and she hadn't bothered to tell anyone. She kept telling herself it would stop soon, even though it didn't.

Surprisingly, it was Gendry who broke the awkward silence that ensured. "Well…you can have some anyway," he said easily, getting out another plate and putting a slice of margarita pizza on her plate.

"Didn't you hear me? I said I don't want any." She felt sick to the stomach as she stared at both of them. They were both so damn tall, and how could they be that strong?

"Arya…" Jon began, but she cut him off.

"Don't bother. I'm not hungry. I'm going to bed," she told him. "I've got uni tomorrow, don't I? I should be all ready and prepared…not a fucking tired idiot." She laughed, yet it sounded hollow and…insane.

She stormed past them, but Gendry grabbed her wrist. "What's wrong with you?" he demanded, holding it firmly.

Arya struggled against it, before finally giving up. "Oh, y'know, just the small fact that I hate everyone! I hate how everyone's happy, and I'm not, and that everyone can deal with the shit fact that my dad's dead! I hate the fact that I wished that it was my mum that was dead, not my dad. I hate how everyone stares at me pityingly, and goes on and on about how they fucking understand. I hate how Sansa went through worse than me, yet I'm the one who wants to die and just…not do anything. Everyone has gone on with their lives and I'm just sitting here waiting for something good to happen to mine! Everyone tolerates me, no one…I mean, why would they like me?"

Had she always felt like this? Arya couldn't remember. She felt so…sick…so…what was even wrong with her? I mean, she knew that people liked her, but…her mind kept tricking her, yelling at her, taunting her. It told her she was fat and stupid, it told her she had no friends and that oh, her father was dead.

Gendry released her wrist, yet she didn't move. She was frozen to the spot, from fear, from panic, because she hadn't even told Jaqen that…and yet she told Jon and his bloody roommate? Her stomach churned uncomfortably, and Arya ran to the toilet, and proceeded to throw up everything she had eaten that day. She heard two pairs of footsteps follow her, and she wanted to scream at them to go away, but instead she let Jon take her in her arms and Gendry kneel beside her.

"Maybe we can…rethink university," her brother finally said as he held her. Gendry nodded his agreement.

"No…" Arya said slowly, her head feeling faint. "I just…I should do it, shouldn't I? There's no reason I shouldn't."

"Catelyn thought you were better," Jon pointed out sadly, ruffling her hair like he always used to do when they were little kids.

"I was…I am…I don't know. Some days are just…good…and others are fucking terrible."

It was Gendry who spoke next, which surprised her because quite frankly, she thought he hated her. "A lot of people have those days. I'm not saying their bad days might not be as bad as yours or their good days as good as yours, but…you just gotta…do it, y'know?"

He sounded like he understood, Arya realised. It wasn't like how Catelyn and Rickon and Theon and Robb and all of them had said that they understood that it was just a phase. Gendry Waters sounded genuinely concerned and…he sounded like he knew.

"Will you go?" Jon asked, still holding her.

The situation finally settled in, that she had just ranted and raved and…the embarrassment came, and it was clear that her brother felt if for he released her, and went to kneel beside Gendry.

"Yeah," Arya said finally, "I'll go."

When she lay in bed later that night, still feeling sick and tired and sore, she couldn't help but hate herself even more for letting herself scream out all her problems to them. It didn't matter, though, she realised. They cared, didn't they? A tiny voice in her head whispered that they didn't, but it was so tiny that Arya didn't even bother to notice it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter focused more on Gendry, and I'll probably upload the others tomorrow or later today as I have already written the first five chapters.


	3. Chapter 3

The sun was shining too brightly for Arya's liking, simply because in the movies when someone was having a bad day it was all raining and there was thunder. That should have happened, especially since its Winterfell, which was absolutely freezing. Instead, it was one of those rare days where the sun seemed to push the clouds away and shine brightly. It was definitely not hot, because the wind was still icy cold and she still had to put on her thickest coat before heading out to, oh, yeah, university.

Arya was still stressed and scared and annoyed, yet she found herself walking to the particularly large university in Winterfell, even though it was a long walk. It was nearly noon, which was when her first mythology class with the one and only Tyrion Lannister was. She couldn't believe that she was about to be in the same room with Joffrey Baratheon's uncle, but…she could do it. Despite her embarrassment at her outburst last night, it had still…lifted some of the weight off her chest. That didn't mean she had been able to look Jon and Gendry in the eyes that morning, though.

The university campus felt too large, yet suffocating at the same time. Arya wasn't sure how that was possible, but it was. She noticed a few people stare at her, probably because she looked like…him. Yet she ignored all of them, and walked bravely forward into the main building of the university. Her class was in Room 101, which was on the second floor. The stairs seemed steep and daunting, like everything else.

When she entered the room, a few other students were littered about, leaning back casually in chairs. Arya tried to remind herself that this was the first day of a new term for everyone, yet it didn't work. She still felt everyone's curious glances as she made her way to sit at the back. Tyrion Lannister still hadn't arrived yet, to her immediate displeasure, because she had hoped to give him a firm yelling at about how she never wanted to take this class because…of, well, him. Instead she sat at the back, moping, and annoyed at how people were looking at her.

When the youngest Lannister brother finally walked in, his small rather mutated body struggling to reach the desk, Arya glared at him. He looked up at her, his mismatched eyes meeting hers, and to her surprise he smiled slightly. Tyrion finally took his place at the desk, and the lesson began. She was surprised, if not a little relieved, at the fact that he didn't act like anything was wrong. The Lannister didn't pelt her with question after question on things she knew about mythology to show his hatred. He treated her how he treated all the other students, occasionally asking her a question like he did with the others.

The lesson went quickly, and Arya was only a bit behind, despite having missed, what, a whole term? She had always been fascinated by mythology, though, so it was easy for her to listen. When the lesson ended, she packed up her books and shoved them in her bag like everyone else, knowing perfectly well that she would be pulled up by Tyrion for a talk. She was just about to get into the hallway when the annoying Lannister's voice called her back.

"A minute, Arya?" She turned, and Tyrion was looking at her. Some cruel part of her liked the fact that she could look down on him. Despite this, she didn't feel like she was intimidating in the slightest. Instead, it was the Lannister who was looking straight through her.

"Yeah?" she asked, struggling to keep her voice from shaking. Arya knew her hands were shaking, so she casually slipped them into her pockets.

"I'm sorry." His words startled her, for she hadn't been expecting that. "I know…this is probably hard for you. However I am deeply sorry for what my idiotic nephew has done to your family, as well as my rather beautiful yet power crazed sister."

"Oh…" she said weakly. "Yeah…erm…it's fine."

Tyrion looked at her curiously. "It's fine?" he repeated slowly. "Oh, I doubt that. I just hope you do realise that I am not like my devious sister or her son. You may go now, unless you have…something to ask?"

Arya stared at him, feeling shocked. "Oh…well…am I behind on anything?"

He smiled at her, and it was crooked yet…friendly. "No, you actually know quite a bit."

She decided to ignore the 'actually' of the compliment, and instead accepted it awkwardly before turning and leaving. Without thinking, she stopped at the doorway and turned to face him. "Thanks," she said, before quickly hurrying away before he could reply.

When Arya finally got outside, she took several deep breaths, before finally collapsing onto the grass. She felt stressed, but not…too bad. It hadn't gone badly, really, in fact, it had almost gone…well. Even though everything still seemed hard to take in, she knew that she would get used to it…or at least, most of it. Like the fact that Tyrion Lannister was her mythology teacher and he wasn't that bad. She stayed there for a few minutes, soaking up the sunlight and lying in the cold grass with her eyes closed.

"Hey," she heard a voice say, and when Arya opened her eyes she saw a boy – no, a man – leaning over her, a smile on his face. Hadn't he been in her mythology class?

"Hey…" Arya replied uncertainly, and she couldn't help but feel weird. After all, it was a little strange to talk to someone while lying down and they were standing up. He was rather tall, as well. The man seemed to realise this, for he quickly sat down beside her, and extended his hand.

"I'm Edric Dayne…most people call me Ned, though. I'm in your mythology class," he told her.

"I'm Arya Stark." She shook his hand, and stared into his blue – no, were they purple? – eyes.

"I was just wondering if you needed any help…I mean, you weren't in our class at the start of this semester, so…you know," Ned said politely. Arya couldn't help but think that he seemed like one of those people who were really polite when he first met people, and then after awhile he started to show his real personality, whatever that was.

"Nah, I'm fine. I mean…y'know, I don't know everything, but I'm not struggling."

"That's good. Well, if you ever need any help…" Edric Dayne hesitated for a moment. "Do you want my number?"

Arya stared at him uncertainly. She didn't know if he was…or…no, she was just being stupid. No one would like her like that. "Oh…yeah…that's fine."

Ned broke into a grin, which looked kind of funny with his blonde hair and shining blue eyes. "Okay." He reached into his bag and pulled out a pen and piece of paper, and quickly wrote down a number before handing it back to her. "Just call me any time…or text. I'll see you later, Arya."

She took the piece of paper, not knowing what to do with it. "Okay, see you." Once he left, Arya shoved the bit of paper in her bag, and decided that it was about time to head…well, home. Jon was probably going to go mad if she wasn't home soon and Gendry…well, he probably didn't really care.

There were a lot of people lingering on the grounds, probably because mid after-noon was prime time for lectures to start. Arya made her way through all of them, awkwardly shoving through some. She was just about to leave the campus when a glint of blonde hair caught her eye. For a moment she stared at it uncertainly, for the man had his back towards her and it couldn't be. He was supposed to be in King's Landing. Yet when he turned she saw his gleaming blue eyes and that annoying, disgusting, repulsive, hideous face. Joffrey Baratheon noticed her too, for his eyes met hers and there was a smirk on his face instantly.

The man who had pretty much screwed everything up for her family was approaching her, and Arya didn't know what to do. Did she beat the living shit out of him, or…? She was panicking, and badly. Jaqen had never prepared her for this. Arya was about to walk away, about to run home and hide under her bed when she felt a hand on her shoulder. She didn't dare turn around, but she noticed that the hideous bastard approaching her stopped, and quickly turned around. When Arya turned around, she stared in shock at Gendry, who was still glaring as Joffrey scampered away.

"Why…why are you here?" she spluttered. His hand was still on her shoulder, and she didn't bother to pull it away. It felt weird…in a nice way.

"Jon called, and asked if you were home. When I told him you weren't, he told me to come and get you," her annoying roommate told her, finally removing his hand from her shoulder.

"I didn't need your help," Arya told him suddenly, like it was…important that he know this.

Gendry gazed at her weirdly. "I didn't say anything like that."

For a moment they stared at each other, and she wondered what he was thinking. Did he think she was completely insane? Was she completely insane? Finally, her roommate rolled his eyes and sighed.

"Listen, let's head back. I need a cigarette, and I can't find my packet. I bought my car, by the way, so you don't have to walk that long distance. I don't know why you walked this morning, but oh well," Gendry said, rambling slightly.

"I don't care about your stupid cigarettes. You shouldn't smoke."

"Do you care?" He raised one eyebrow at her, and she hated that expression so much that she looked away.

"No," Arya said shortly. "Where's your stupid car?"

He didn't respond, and simply lead her to the car park, and when he got his car keys out Arya saw he was pointing them towards a rather cheap Holden. Not that she could really talk, since she couldn't afford a car. They got in the car and Gendry drove the short distance in silence, turning the music up in the car to a deafening volume, not that Arya minded. She had always loved loud music, and even though she didn't know what the hell it was, she still liked it.

When Gendry's average Holden finally parked on the street outside their house, Arya couldn't keep quiet any longer.

"Do you know Joffrey?" she blurted out.

He stared at her for a moment as they got out of the car. "Not really," he said dismissively, yet she could tell he was lying. "I know what he did to your family."

Arya didn't bother to reply, mainly because she knew he was lying. It didn't really matter, though, because she seriously doubted Joffrey and him were best mates or anything like that.

They entered the house in silence, which was as usual, messy. She kind of liked it, though…it gave it personality, or something along those lines. Even so, Arya could just imagine Catelyn or Sansa's expression at the state of the house, and how it was her job to clean it. Arya didn't know how to clean anything, except for maybe dishes, and even that was a half-hearted job. Gendry couldn't clean, only cook, and Jon…

"Can Jon do anything?" she found herself asking him, exasperated. When Arya saw Gendry's face frown at her, she quickly corrected herself. "I mean, like, does he do anything around the house?"

"Not really," the annoying roommate admitted. "He earns the money, I suppose. His band does a lot of gigs and stuff, and even though they're not the best, they're still pretty decent for Winterfell."

"What's that supposed to mean? Are you saying that Winterfell has no talent whatsoever?" she demanded, glaring at him. Gendry was in the kitchen, presumably looking around for his cigarette packet.

"Compared to King's Landing…I mean, King's Landing is the capitol. It's where most of the talent is."

"And most of the ass holes."

Gendry rolled his eyes. "Maybe. You should go there some time…it's…nice."

"Hell no," Arya snapped furiously. "I've already been there anyway. The only good thing was the fencing."

"Fencing? You do fencing?"

"I used to. I was on the Winterfell team, but then when…when we went to Kings Landing, I got a different coach and everything."

She couldn't help but notice that this conversation was the only slightly normal one they'd had. Most of the time they only ever said good morning or good night, or some offhand comment. They never really bothered to have a proper conversation, mainly because Arya found Gendry insufferable and him…well, she didn't know what he thought of her, and she wasn't going to ask Jon. Her brother would just get some plain weird ideas.

"Do you know why Joffrey was there?" Gendry suddenly asked, his voice quiet. He was still rummaging around the kitchen for his cigarettes. Arya suddenly remembered that Jon had thrown them out the night before, to try and convince his best friend to stop smoking.

"No idea," she said dismissively, not wanting to talk about Joffrey Baratheon. "Oh, by the way, I just remembered…Jon threw out your cigarettes."

Gendry slammed the cupboard which he had just opened shut. "Screw him. I'll see you later, Arya."

She watched her roommate leave, unsure if she should follow him or not. Should she of not told him? Oh well, it didn't really matter. He would have found out soon, anyway.

When Arya heard the car finally pull out of the driveway, she quickly made a sandwich and went up to her room. She didn't put much in the sandwich, in a hope that it would go down properly. To Jon's dismay, she hadn't had anything for breakfast, telling him she wasn't hungry. It had been the truth, if a little stretched. Arya was hungry, she always had been like that, but…there was just no point in eating.

Her room was a bit messy, but other than that it was fine. She threw herself onto her bed, ate her sandwich, and once she had finished she got out her phone from her bag. There was no way she was going to call Edric Dayne…that would just seem so…desperate. Arya wanted to call Hot Pie, but…she just wanted to talk about simple things, like the weather or pizza, not the fact that she totally tossed him away. Naturally, though, he would want to talk about that, so she couldn't call him. She could call Catelyn or…Sansa. Sansa was so bloody polite and sensitive to other people's emotions that she would have to know Arya didn't want to talk about something serious. In the end, she called Sansa, and waited for her to pick up.

"Arya?" Sansa's voice sounded happy, and in the background Arya could hear cheers and shouts. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah…everything's fine…I was just wondering if we could, y'know, talk?" she asked, and it felt weird talking to her sister so…civilly. Before…before nothing had been like this and they had always bickered and argued none stop.

"Oh…well, I suppose so…but, Arya, really…hasn't Jon told you?" Sansa seemed to sense that she wanted to talk about fun things.

"Told me what?"

"That Margaery, Loras and I are coming to Winterfell!"

Arya nearly dropped her mobile, and she heard herself make some indistinct sound.

"Arya, are you okay? Is something wrong with that?" Sansa asked.

Oh yeah, just the small fact that your ex-boyfriend who fucked up our lives is in Winterfell, she thought dryly. "No, that's…that's great!"

"Good! We're actually…in Riverrun at the moment…so we're nearly there! We should be there late tonight, or early tomorrow."

"I'll tell…Gendry to make something nice," Arya managed to choke out, feeling sick to her stomach. "So you can come over for dinner one night."

"Gendry? Is that your roommate? What's he like?" Sansa sounded politely interested, something she had always been good at.

"He's alright," Arya said dismissively. "Anyway, I have to go now…it was nice talking to you though." That was the truth, though, because the doorbell was ringing loudly, and Jon and Gendry had their own keys, so it was probably someone else.

"Oh…" Her sister sounded disappointed. "Well, that's fine. I might call you when we're near Winterfell, okay? Take care, Arya."

"You too." When she hung up, the doorbell was still ringing annoyingly loud. Who even pressed the button that many times?

"I'm coming!" Arya shouted as she shoved her phone in her bag and hurried downstairs. She opened the door, expecting to see someone like Theon Greyjoy or Robb or…

Joffrey Baratheon stood there, on her doorstep, looking as cocky and arrogant as…well, him. Behind him was a tall and hideous man, one side of his face completely burnt.

"Oh…hey," Arya said awkwardly, clenching her fists by her side. How did he even know where she lived? Or they lived? Or whatever?

"Arya Stark, isn't it?" Joffrey said, squinting his annoyingly blue eyes. They weren't like Gendry's, she realised suddenly. Gendry's were bright and kind and smiley, while Joffrey's were…wait, where did that even come from?

"Yeah…" she replied stupidly, and she could see the brute behind him laughing slightly.

"I thought we should talk. May I come in?" he asked coolly, his blonde hair glinting in the sunlight.

What? Could he…come in? No, of course he can't, this is my house, what am I doing? Yet Arya felt like her mouth had gone completely dry, and her hands were shaking drastically. All the ways of brutally murdering him disappeared abruptly. Joffrey seemed to sense the moment of her unease, for he shoved past her as easily as anything, and entered the house.

"Come on, dog," he called out to his companion, who pushed her aside surprisingly gently. When Joffrey saw that Arya was still standing by the door, he glared. "Well? Go get us something to drink, or eat."

"R-right…" She found her hands were sweating badly, and she stumbled into the kitchen, quickly making some coffee while Joffrey and his 'dog' or whatever was seated on the couch. Arya couldn't help but notice how out of place both of them looked on the scruffy couch. Once the coffee was ready, she poured it into two chipped mugs and hurried towards them, shoving the mugs in their hands. She decided to stay standing, not wanting to sit on the same couch as them. When Joffrey took a sip, he shuddered dramatically.

"What is this?" he demanded, looking at the coffee as if it were poisoned.

"Coffee," Arya said, finding her voice at least. "If you don't like it…then…well, don't have anything."

Joffrey Baratheon glared at her, but she noticed he kept sipping his coffee.

"Why are you here?" she finally asked, feeling a bit of anger inside her now, replacing the nerves. "I mean…you…why?"

The blonde haired man smiled deviously. "Well, you see, I have your father's will. It's only natural that you, as his daughter, see it." His tone turned dangerously dark. "Especially since he seems to have given you something in his will. Something he never had."

"What do you mean?"

"Dog, show her the will."

Arya watched nervously as the brute pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket and handed it to her. She grabbed it, and opened it up. Her father's familiar messy scrawl was sprawled out all over the paper. He seemed to have crossed out many things, and added even more. Yet she could make out a few things, like how quite a bit of money would go to Bran and Rickon, and how their old house in Winterfell now belonged to Theon and Robb. There was also more money given to Sansa, yet none to her. Instead, written in the middle, the only thing that hadn't been crossed out, were the words 'Baratheon Corp.' and underneath were her and Jon's names scrawled.

"Oh." Her lips felt like butter, and she had to fight not to cry. Why would her father give Baratheon Corp to her? Not to mention that Jon wasn't even…well, none of them were even sure who his real mother was. Arya wasn't that smart, and she was no business woman. Not to mention the small fact that she could barely function at the moment.

"As you should know, Baratheon Corp. is not Eddard Stark's," Joffrey told her formally, and she flinched when she heard her father's name.

"O-okay, that's fine. It's yours," Arya said instantly, clenching and unclenching the piece of paper in her hands.

The annoying blonde frowned at her. "Really? I'm not sure your little half-breed brother would agree to such a thing."

She stared at him. "It doesn't matter." Her own voice scared her. It was deep and guttural and…abnormal. "You just take the bloody thing."

Joffrey Baratheon smiled cruelly at her. "Very well then. I thought I'd inform you, as well…you are Eddard Stark's favourite daughter, that Baratheon Corp. is extending. Fairly soon we shall be also in Winterfell, as well as Highgarden. I don't know if you know, but the Tyrells are very good friends of ours," he explained.  
Arya had so many questions in her mind, the first one being what was Baratheon Corp.? She didn't even know if it was some kind of…mining company, or something else.

"I'd…say that's great but it really…isn't," she said, biting her lip.

"Not for you Starks. However for the Lannisters it is."

Arya didn't miss the way he said Lannisters and not Baratheons. "Okay…"

Joffrey seemed to decide that he'd had enough, for he put his empty coffee mug on the table and got up, brushing imaginary crumbs off his rather…elegant – was that a bloody tunic?

"It was enlightening to talk to you, Arya Stark. I do hope to see dear Sansa around sometime. Good day," he said, smiling wickedly. "Dog, let's go." He got half way down the front yard before turning around. "By the way, didn't you ever wonder why your father died so…abruptly?" Joffrey laughed sourly. "If I were you, I certainly would."

As they left, all Arya could think was how rude the combo were, Joffrey simply leaving and entering without permission and the brute…well, he had simply sat there. She stared at the piece of paper in her hands, wanting to burn it or just…do something. Didn't Jon have the right to know, though? And what he had said about her father…hadn't he died of stress? That's what everyone had told her.

Without thinking, Arya Stark stuffed the piece of paper in her pocket and left the house, locking it behind her.

.

Sansa Stark stared out the window of the car idly. They were on the road yet again, except this time Loras was driving, and he wasn't exactly the safest driver, despite his charming and polite personality. Margaery was singing softly in the front seat, while she sat in the back with Lady, her newly purchased husky. In Highgarden Sansa had found the stray on the streets, and because the dog had reminded her so much of her old dog, called Lady as well, she took it in. The dog seemed to like her, which delighted her to bits.

She wasn't sure why they were even going to Winterfell. It was clear Margaery didn't either. It had been Loras who had announced it, after he had got off the phone from their grandmother, Olenna Tyrell. Loras hadn't explained anything, except going on about how Sansa would get to see everyone again, which was true. They had just left Riverrun, and she'd enjoyed talking to her mother again, as well as briefly playing with Rickon and helping Bran study. Yet the person she really wanted to see was Arya, which was quite surprising.

They had never liked each other as sisters, and had always been the two bickering and arguing. After their father died, though, Arya went into a shell and Sansa…well, she stayed in an abusive relationship with Joffrey Baratheon, not wanting to tell anyone. No one knew that it was actually Arya who had found out, not Bran. Bran had told her afterwards, that it was Arya who saw them together, Arya who saw them fighting. Sansa had never brought it up with her sister.

"What do you think we should do when we get there?" Margaery asked suddenly, interrupting the comfortable silence.

"I have things to do," Loras said at once. "Important things," he added quickly, when Margaery seemed to glare at him.

"Well, what do you think, Sansa? You must know all the beautiful spots…oh, and are there any handsome men around? Do you know?"

"There's a few," she admitted, "but not really."

"Didn't you say you used to date one of your brother's friends or something?" Margaery asked, clearly intrigued.

"Well, yes. His name was Theon Greyjoy…"

"Greyjoy?" Loras interjected from the front seat. "You dated a Greyjoy?"

"Yes, I did," Sansa snapped defensively. "And let me tell you, he was much better than Joffrey Baratheon."

There was an awkward silence that filled the car, and Loras seemed to cough uncomfortably.

"Loras didn't mean to upset you," Margaery said quickly, breaking the silence. "Did you, Loras?"

"No, of course not." His response was tight and clipped, and she didn't believe him for a minute.

"I forgive you, Loras," Sansa said politely, even though he hadn't directly apologised. She knew it was the right thing to say, and that was what she was always trying to do after Joffrey Baratheon. Say the right thing, do the right thing, even if it wasn't what you wanted or thought.

They drove in tense silence, the only sound being Margaery's quiet humming. Outside it was rather sunny, which surprised Sansa. Usually, the closer one got to Winterfell the colder it would become. Yet it was clear that today was one of those rare sunny days. Even though Winterfell was still a fair way off, Sansa was already excited. She couldn't wait to see Arya, for some strange unknown reason. They had already seen each other around a month or so ago, when she had dropped Arya off. Now, though, wouldn't things be all better and lovely?

"I think we might make it tonight!" Margaery said excitedly, and when Sansa looked out the window she could see it was true. It was nearly completely dark, and in the distance she could make out the lights of Winterfell and the tall mountains beyond it. She briefly remembered Arya telling her that it was rumoured that there had once been a massive wall of ice north of Winterfell.

"Are we staying at a hotel or somewhere else?" Sansa asked. She hated staying at hotels, mainly because it was so unfamiliar and…just not good. If they were, she would probably ask to stay with Arya and Jon and their roommate.

"No…" Loras said, and he sounded almost uncomfortable. "We'll be staying with a friend."

Even Margaery seemed to look at him weirdly. "I thought you said we were staying at a hotel," she said smoothly.

"Change of plans."

Sansa tuned out when she saw the pair were about to bicker, except this time it seemed a bit more serious. At least we're not staying at a hotel, she thought happily, and leaned back, wanting to get a little bit of sleep before they arrived.

When she opened her eyes, they were in Winterfell, driving through the streets, and it was well and truly dark. It looked like rather expensive side of town, where she had used to live when everything had been happy and nice. Sansa tried to spot where they were, but Loras was driving too fast to see the sign posts properly.

"Loras, slow down! We're not in any rush!" Margaery snapped at her brother, and she couldn't help but notice how tense the two seemed.

"I know," he said calmly, "but, we're nearly there."

The car stopped outside a very grand and large looking house, and Sansa couldn't help but gape at it. Margaery seemed to be looking furious, yet she didn't know why.

"A very rich friend you have, Loras," she commented dryly, getting out of the car and slamming the door. Her brother got out, looking incredibly uncomfortable.

"Sansa," he began, but was interrupting by the door to the mansion opening. An incredibly handsome man was walking down the drive way, and wait, wasn't that…?

"Loras, Margaery," Jaime Lannister greeted them both smoothly, before turning his eyes to Sansa. They looked almost apologetic. "Sansa, it's been awhile."

She was confused, so confused, for why would Loras be associating with Jaime Lannister? Didn't he know? No, he did, for Sansa had told the Tyrell siblings everything. She felt a hand grip her arm suddenly, and turned to see Margaery standing beside her.

"I didn't know," the older woman whispered pathetically. "I am so sorry."

Sansa wanted to scream at all three of them, demand to know what was so wrong even though she had a sick feeling in her stomach. The door to the mansion opened again, and out stepped his damn bodyguard, the man who had saved her on many occasions. Sandor Clegane looked at her so pityingly that she didn't even notice it when Joffrey exited the house as well.

"You've all arrived!" he said, his blue eyes glinting dangerously as he approached them.

"Joffrey," Loras greeted, smiling vaguely, yet it didn't quite meet his eyes. They didn't look like friends as they shook hands stiffly. The Baratheon boy then turned his eyes to Margaery, who was smiling thinly.

"You must be Margaery. I have heard much about you," he said charmingly, and Sansa wanted to vomit everywhere, or just get away.

"I have heard much about you," the Tyrell woman replied, her eyes narrowing as he kissed her hand.

Joffrey's eyes were suddenly on her, and she wanted to squirm. Instead of kissing her hand like he did to Margaery, he leaned in dangerously close and gave a lingering kiss to her cheek.

"I knew you'd come back, Sansa," he whispered, his hot breath brushing her throat.

When he finally leaned back to allow her to breath, Sansa wanted to run in the car and go to that hotel that they had been supposed to go to. Any hotel was better than here.

.

It was freezing outside, due to the fact that it had been a clear day, and Gendry sat in his car, simply driving around Winterfell. After smoking a few more cigarettes than necessary, he had decided to just drive around, not particularly wanting to go back home or whatever it was. All his money was pretty much gone from the price of cigarettes, and he felt sad and all that shit, which meant loud music and open windows, despite it being freezing.

He was happy with himself, in a weird way. Despite being tempted to drop into a local pub and get piss drunk, like he usually did nowadays, Gendry had stopped himself and instead gone for a drive to calm him down. Ever since Arya had arrived, he had been worse. It wasn't her fault, though, really, it was just she had arrived at a bad time for him. And clearly a bad time for her.

She was weird, Arya, all moody and everything. Gendry had never really…dealt, with someone who had depression or whatever it was called. Most of his mates were the go-with-the-flow type people, who didn't really give a shit about anything. Jon was probably the only exception, because his roommate was serious and hardworking, except when he was around Ygritte. Arya wasn't really a friend, though, was she? She was more a type of person he was just being polite to, or 'tolerating'. Jon's younger sister had been on his mind a lot, but not in a romantic way. More a confused and not knowing what to do way.

Gendry continued to drive around, his thoughts going away from Arya Stark and to less complicated things, like what his mates were doing, and the music he was currently enjoying. He was in some area of Winterfell he had never been, and it was rather…secluded. There were quite a few shifty looking shops and pubs, and a lot of suspicious people walking around, like – was that Arya? It looked like it was, because he could recognise the old faded jeans and the same t-shirt she wore most days. He slowed the car down and drove beside her.

It took Arya less than a minute to realise a car was trailing her, to Gendry's amusement. When she did, she looked at it startled.

"My father's a cop!" she shouted suddenly, crossing her arms over her chest stubbornly.

He opened the windows. "Is he, now?"

She froze, and stared at him. "What are you doing here? Did Jon send you?"

"Jon doesn't even know you're walking the streets this late, and oh, hey, did you notice the strip club behind you?"

"Look, can you just kindly fuck off?" Arya snapped, continuing to walk, and when he continued trailing behind her she stopped short. "Okay, now you're just being really creepy. Aren't you like, twenty four?"

Gendry rolled his eyes. She was clearly upset, because she looked all tense and uptight, and not to mention that whenever she was sad the right side of her lip was always quirked…He stopped short when he realised his thoughts sounded borderline creepy.

"Can you just get in if you found it so creepy?" Gendry shouted, stopping the car by the side of the road.

Arya seemed to hesitate for a moment, before finally sighing loudly. "Oh, whatever."

She got in and made a good effort of slamming the door shut. Once her seat belt clicked in, she crossed her arms over her chest and glared out the window.

"Are you okay?" he asked suddenly, and then quickly regretted it. They weren't even close, so why would she share her problems with him? Sure, last night she had blurted out a lot of shit but Gendry had a feeling that there was a lot more to it. And now…she just looked, stressed and troubled, like something had happened.

Arya seemed to pause for a bit. "First of all, why were you driving down that street? You weren't planning on visiting a strip club or anything, were you?"

"No! I was just driving around, and don't give me that look."

She was still looking at him disbelievingly, before she sighed again. "Okay, sure, if you say so. Anyway, that's not the point. Can you drive…like, okay, I'll just give you directions," Arya said.

"To where, exactly?" he asked, as he turned left off that hideously suspicious street.

"Just…just shut up and I'll tell you where to go."

Gendry proceeded to listen to her give him directions, and he knew after all that they were going to the north of Winterfell, to some mysterious weird place that he didn't know of. They were no street lights, and the road was pure dirt, and he couldn't help but feel a little worried about where he was leading them. Finally, Arya pointed to a rather hidden turn off, and there was a small parking area. She got out of the car quickly, and gestured for him to follow.

"Where are we going?" he demanded, as she led him to a path which seemed to go up a hill.

"I said it before, shut up and follow me," Arya said and there was a small smile on her face as she guided him up the trail.

They walked in silence, and Gendry couldn't help but notice that even without a light she knew exactly where she was going, pointing out bits claiming they were too muddy or some other stuff like that. When she finally stopped them, he couldn't see anything.

"Do you have your cigarette lighter?" Arya asked suddenly, and he stared at her suspiciously.

"Yeah…why?"

"So we can see?"

He got out his lighter and flicked it a few times, before finally producing a small flame. It was clear that a lot of trees were surrounding them, and was that a face on one?

"Where is this…?" Gendry asked, moving the lighter around to try and see things.

"It's the godswood…with the weirwood trees. You see the ones with the faces on them? They're the weirwood trees. It's said that people came here to pray…or something like that. I can't really remember," Arya explained easily, grabbing his arm and pulling him towards the middle of the small wood.

"Why are we here?"

She glared at him. "Do you always have to ask such stupid questions? Why can't we just…I don't know, be here?"

"Well, there are a few reasons. It's the middle of the night, and I don't even know why you were walking the streets!" he snapped angrily. "We're in the middle of nowhere."

"No, we're not. My…my dad used to take me here all the time. I know this place like the back of my hand." She grimaced when she mentioned Ned Stark, as if it hurt, which it probably did.

"Look…we're not going to pray, are we…? I mean, no offense or anything, I just don't believe in some man in the sky or whatever…"

"Nah, we're not going to pray. I used to go here all the time with him, and he used to say that…sometimes…advice would just come to him, and he'd know what he would have to do. Except…I don't think that really worked, because if he got the idea that we should go to King's Landing from here…" Arya trailed off sadly.

"I'm sorry," he said sincerely. "Did something…happen? I don't know, you seem a little…tense."

She bit her lip. "Look, can we not talk about it?"

He didn't reply, and they simply stood in silence, and after awhile the cigarette lighter blew out, and there was complete darkness. Yet it didn't feel…sad, or depressing, and even though he didn't have any sudden epiphanies, Gendry felt almost…refreshed when Arya finally turned around and began to walk away.

"Did you…get your answer?" he asked, feeling almost stupid.

"No," she replied shortly. "I never expected to, though."

"Then…why did we go?"

Arya looked him in the eye, and he couldn't help but notice how skinny and fragile and just…broken she was. "I didn't want to go alone."

Gendry nodded, and they walked back to the car in silence. The drive home was tense, and halfway there his phone buzzed, with a message from Jon expressing his concern on Arya's whereabouts.

"You text him back," he told her, and she nodded and quickly wrote a reply before clicking send. Gendry drove faster than he probably should have, and pretty soon the car stopped outside the house. It was nearly two in the morning, yet he didn't feel tired.

"Gendry…" Arya said suddenly, and he realised that it was probably the first time she had said his name. "I was just wondering if you knew…any investigators or something like that? Like, private investigators?"

He stared at her. It was clear she didn't want Jon to know about what she was going to do once she got in contact with an investigator, otherwise she would've asked him. Gendry didn't really want to tell her that one of his close mates was a very talented investigator, because…he didn't even know what she wanted.

"Why?" he asked, trying to sound polite.

"I just…want to look into some things. Important things that my brother doesn't need to know about."

"I kind of gathered that."

"Well, anyway, do you know any?" She looked at him, eyes narrowed slightly, right side of her lip quirking.

"Yeah…I do…do you want his number?" Gendry asked, wondering if he should tell Jon or not.

Arya's face broke out into a rather crooked grin. "Thanks so much. Can I have the number, like, now? And don't tell Jon about this…please."

He nodded weakly, and grabbed a random receipt lying around and scrawled the number of Beric Dondarrion on the back of it. "Here."

She took it, and smiled slightly at him. "Thanks…for…y'know, this and…yeah."

"It's nothing," Gendry dismissed, waving it off.

Arya smiled and got out of the car, hurrying inside. He watched as Jon appeared outside, and threw his arms around her, probably lecturing her about sneaking off or something along those lines. Gendry couldn't help but smile slightly. He didn't really feel like a cigarette, even though it had been nearly two hours since his last.


	4. Chapter 4

Sansa didn't want to leave her bedroom ever again. She wanted to stay huddled under the covers in her Stars Wars pyjamas – courtesy of Arya – and never talk to anyone, especially Loras. Margaery seemed apologetic about the whole thing, but that didn't make the whole affair less completely awkward and nerve-wracking. Dinner had been something Sansa never wanted to relive, and she supposed she should be thankful for the fact that Cersei wasn't there, and was still in King's Landing. Then again, that didn't seem to stop Joffrey's pile of questions for her.

"How's your father going, Sansa?"

"Are you dating anyone, Sansa?"

"Is your sister still her happy old self, Sansa?"

She hated how he said her name, and her discomfort must have been obvious. To her surprise, it hadn't been Margaery who had stuck up for her at dinner, but Tyrion Lannister. It was clear that he loathed his nephew, which, in Sansa's eyes, was perfectly understandable.

Someone was knocking on Sansa's door, yet it certainly wouldn't be Joffrey. Her ex-boyfriend would have undoubtedly just waltzed in like he owned the place, which unfortunately for her, he did.

"Sansa? Are you in there?" It was Margaery, and her voice was so soft and concerned that it caused the tears in Sansa's eyes to well up all over again. "Sansa, please open the door. I'm worried about you."

It was natural for Margaery to be worried, she couldn't help but note. They were close friends, and Sansa had locked herself in her room straight after dinner, refusing desert, even though it was lemon cakes, her favourite. She didn't know if the desert had been made for her or as some patronizing display of unwanted affection from Joffrey Baratheon. Either way, she hadn't left the room since.

"Sansa, please!" Margaery begged. Sansa didn't get why Margaery wasn't just opening the door herself. There was no lock on it, to her dismay.

"The door's open," she said quietly, wondering if her friend could hear her from under the covers of her bed.

Either Margaery had heard her or simply decided that she would come in anyway, and the door opened to reveal her friend, looking beautiful as she always did.

"Sansa…" the youngest Tyrell whispered, "I am so sorry." Margaery crawled under the covers with her.

"It's okay," Sansa mumbled, quickly wiping away her tears. "We won't be here for long, will we…?"

Her friend stared at her apologetically. "Loras won't tell me…and neither will Joffrey, either, which is no surprise."

"I can just stay with Arya and Jon…they'd…take me in."

"Could you?" Margaery sounded hopeful, yet not in a rude way.

"I think so…" Sansa whispered, feeling scared. They'd take her in, wouldn't they? There was no reason why they shouldn't…

"It's okay, Sansa. Just…please come down and eat something. It's nearly midday, and you haven't had anything since dinner."

"Is he down there?"

The youngest Tyrell sibling sighed. "Yes, he is…but I'll be there with you."

Sansa nodded weakly, not knowing what else to do. She couldn't be bothered changing, as she was still in yesterday's clothes. Besides, she shouldn't have to look good for him. Margaery took Sansa's hand is hers, and led her out of the room Joffrey had given her. Naturally the room had been fully furnished and incredibly beautiful, but she felt like he was almost mocking her. Then again, all of the rooms in the house seemed just as elegant as hers.

The only people in the dining room were Joffrey and Sandor Clegane, neither who were eating anything. Her ex-boyfriend seemed to be just slouching in a seat casually, not really paying attention to anything. His bodyguard was at the back of the grand dining room, his arms folded and eyes closed. When Sansa and Margaery entered, though, Joffrey perked up instantly, a dangerous smile on his face.

"Sansa!" he exclaimed, his blue eyes sparkling. "Sit beside me." He completely ignored Margaery, his eyes only for her, and once that would have flattered and made her delighted, but now…

She sat beside him anyway, retreating into a shell that she had perfected so many times. Arya had taught her a few things, as well. Margaery sat on the other side of Joffrey, while Sandor remained unmoving.

"How did you sleep?" he asked, leaning in far too close.

"I slept fine, thank you for asking. What about you?" Sansa replied automatically, staring straight ahead at Margaery, who looked anxious.

Joffrey seemed annoyed that she wasn't paying attention to him. "Fine," he snapped, before shifting in his seat. "There's food here, unless you want to be as skinny as your bitchy sister."

Sansa stared at the food on the table, not wanting to eat it. It all looked delicious, that much was true, but it felt like eating something from…the enemy.

"Sansa has already eaten," Margaery cut in, pursing her lips. Joffrey glared at her, but seemed to maintain his composure.

"Then eat more. Look at you, Sansa, you're like a twig."

She ignored the insult, and continued staring straight ahead. "I'm fine."

Joffrey slammed his fist on the table loudly. "Just fucking eat the thing!"

Sandor Clegane seemed to step forward, as if about to do something, but stopped. Margaery stood up, fuming, and Sansa simply sat there, too scared to do anything. It reminded her of things…things that…

"We'll be going. Sansa can eat at a café with me," her friend said, sounding courteous as usual, but there was anger in her eyes. "Oh, and, Joff, she will most likely be staying with her siblings. Let's go, Sansa."

Her legs felt shaky, but she forced herself to stand, and walked out of the dining room. Even when she was halfway down the hallway which led to the front door, she still heard his annoying voice echo.

"I doubt they'll want her."

The lunch with Margaery went far too quickly. Sansa ate little, and the bit she did was only due to her friend's coaxing. She knew Joffrey wanted something from her, and that thing he had said…he hadn't been spreading nasty rumours, had he?

"Maybe I should just give in to Joffrey," Sansa mumbled pathetically as they drove back to the mansion.

Her friend glared at her. "No. Absolutely not. You can't just give in to him! That's exactly what he wants."

Sansa nodded weakly, and when the arrived back 'home, she got out and walked numbly to the front door. To no one's surprise at all, Joffrey was waiting there, except he was…right there, by the entrance, smiling charmingly.

"You're back," he greeted, his voice patronising. "Did you enjoy your lunch?"

"Yes, thank you," Sansa replied, her tone clipped and controlled. Margaery put a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"Margaery, I'd like some time alone with Sansa. If you could excuse us?" he asked loudly, his blue eyes darting towards her friend.

The Tyrell woman smiled thinly. "Of course," she said, almost too quickly.

Sansa stared at her in shock as she left, but Margaery only looked back apologetically and tried to smile reassuringly. Nothing can reassure me, she thought sadly as she stared into Joffrey Baratheon's cruel blue eyes.

.

They were in the middle of the godswood again, but it was light this time, and the sun was shining brightly, and they were holding hands. Arya had no idea why…in fact, when had Gendry even taken her hand in his? She felt peaceful, though, more so than she had in a long time. There was a breeze which reminded her Braavos, and the beautiful beaches in it. She felt safe, protected and comfortable, and wondered if Gendry felt the same. They never talked, though, just simple stayed silent, enjoying each others company.

Arya felt nervous when she felt his gaze turn towards her, his blue eyes sparkling lightly. She liked his eyes, because they were so kind and not like Joffrey's, even though they were the same colour. It was hard to find the courage to finally turn to face him, and when she did she noticed he was staring intently at her, as if searching for something.

"What?" Arya demanded, feeling weird all over. She felt hot and tingly, and it wasn't just because of the sun beating down on them. Was it always this hot in Winterfell?

Gendry smiled softly at her, and without warning lifted a hand and gently touched the side of her face. She stared at him, unable to do anything, because what was he doing? How had they even gotten to the godswood? She couldn't remember, couldn't think, because all she could see was Gendry slowly moving closer to her, tilting his head slightly, as if to kiss her and –

He suddenly stopped, chuckled, and muttered something inaudible.

"What?" she asked, feeling confused.

Suddenly the sun seemed to disappear, as if a massive cloud had just covered it up. His soft gaze was now angry, almost confused. "No one would ever want you," he suddenly said, and Arya stared at him. Everything changed, the godswood distorting itself, Gendry's face transforming itself into Joffrey's, and suddenly she saw her father, standing there, looking panicked and sad.

"Arya, I'm so sorry," he whispered, and she was crying, more than she ever had before.

"Dad!" Arya shouted desperately, running towards him but he just kept moving away, moving backwards even though he wasn't walking. "Dad, wait!"

"Tell Jon I'm sorry. I wish I could explain everything. I'm so sorry, Arya."

She tried to scream, but nothing came out, and it was so painful. Her body felt raw and exposed, and she heard Joffrey's taunts and laughter, and Jon was there, staring down at her with disappoint.

"I trusted you," he said, his words bitter and harsh. Jon disappeared, and was replaced by Robb, who had a crown on his head.

"Why did you do this, Arya?" Robb asked, his gaze commanding and questioning. She was in a throne room, she realised, and it looked like something out of her mythology books. Gendry was standing beside him, looking torn and hurt and betrayed.

"Why did you leave?" her stubborn roommate demanded to know, stepping forward.

"No, please – I don't know what you're talking about!" Arya screamed, turning around and running. Yet all around her she could see her father, except he had no head, and oh god, what was even happening to her? She kept running, but everyone was taunting her, telling her how useless she was, and her father, he was screaming, he was –

Arya screamed for real this time, flinging the covers off her bed. The sun was shining brightly outside her window, indicating yet another good day. She felt sick, and her skin was all clammy and sweaty, and she couldn't even remember what she had dreamed of. It had felt nice at the start, all lovely and warm, but then…she couldn't even remember.

"Arya!" someone shouted, and suddenly Jon was standing at her door, looking concerned and worried. "Are you okay, sis?"

She took a deep breath, and then immediately regretted it. "I'm going to be sick," she managed to choke out, before running to the upstairs bathroom. Arya vomited up everything she had eaten yesterday, which wasn't much. Yesterday had been as awful as the days before, and three days ago…

No, she wouldn't think of Joffrey Baratheon and his little smirk and that damn will.

"Are you okay, sis?" Jon asked once she came out of the bathroom. Her brother had politely waited outside, for reasons unknown.

"Bad dream," she rasped, her throat feeling sore and unused.

"Are you sure…? You were screaming pretty loudly."

"Yeah…like I said before, bad dream. I'll be fine."

Jon looked at her disbelievingly and sighed. "Listen…I'm not good with these things, okay? Why don't you…talk to Catelyn, or something? You can even go back to Jack or whatever that guys name was…"

"I'm not talking to mum," Arya said, glaring at him slightly. "And it's Jaqen, not Jack.

"Why don't you go back to him?"

"He's in Harrenhal."

Her brother rolled his eyes. "Look, just think about it, at least. I hope you're hungry, anyway, because it's nearly noon, and we'll be heading out to Robb and Theon's for lunch."

"Will Sansa be there?" she asked bluntly.

"No. Why would she be?" Jon's tone was harsh and cold.

They stared at each other for a moment, understanding in their eyes, before Arya shook her head. "Okay then. I'll go get ready."

Jon left her alone and went downstairs, and she went back to her room to get changed into something more presentable. Tonight she was going to visit Beric Dondarrion for details about the case. Arya had already called him, with Gendry beside her, and they had both plotted out details of when she would be visiting. Naturally, she didn't tell Gendry anything about what she wanted this Dondarrion person to investigate, but he either didn't mind or ignored it. In the end, she chose some old jeans and a t-shirt, and hurried downstairs where Jon was waiting.

"Where's Gendry?" Arya asked when she realised the annoying blue eyed man wasn't there with him.

"He decided to arrive there before us." When Jon saw her face, he laughed. "Don't worry, I'm sure he'll be able to handle Theon."

.

It had been three days since Joffrey Baratheon had shown up on Arya's doorsteps, and she hadn't mentioned it to anyone, not even Jon. She couldn't tell Sansa, because, well…obviously she already knew. Arya didn't care about Sansa at the moment ever since their argument the night before over the phone. Her sister had called, pleading for a place to stay, begging. Of course Arya had refused. She wasn't going to accept after what Sansa had done. No one else was mentioning it either, so why should she?

They were all at Robb and Theon's, celebrating something unknown. Everyone knew it was just an excuse to see each other and get drunk. Arya was feeling alright for once, glad that her family was kind of together. Robb and Theon were there, as well as her brother's girlfriend Jeyne – not to be mistaken as bloody Jeyne Poole – as well as Jon, Gendry and Ygritte. They had even invited Edmure, and one of his many new girlfriends. Roslin wasn't there, mainly because she was Sansa's friend, and also one of Theon's many ex-girlfriends.

Everyone was gathered around the tiny table in Robb and Theon's, shouting and demanding more beer and wine. Gendry had cooked a lot of food for the meal, making lasagne, salad, chicken pie and bringing a bottle of nice red wine, even though he didn't drink it. There were also plenty of sweet things, like a rich chocolate cake, a pavlova and…lemon cakes. Arya didn't want to think about lemon cakes, because it reminded her of Sansa.

"Oh my god, Theon, not this one," Robb snapped from his place at the head of the table. Theon was, as usual, sharing inappropriate stories, and Arya could see Gendry looked horrified yet amused at the same time.

"Oh c'mon, Robb, lighten up! Anyway, so we all know my boss, Ramsay…oh wait, Gendry, you're here! My boss is Ramsay Bolton, dunno if you've ever heard of him? Absolutely hideous creature? Bastard of Roose Bolton, who used to work with Ned Stark?"

"Never heard of him," Gendry admitted, taking a sip of his beer.

"Well, one time he got this guy off the street – god, I didn't even realise we were that short on co-workers, but anyway – and I swear, he smelt so bad. Ramsay seemed to like him a lot though, far more than he ever liked me, which isn't saying much mind you. We all called him Reek, and none of us really knew what his real name was."

"Theon, we've heard this one a thousand times," Jon called out from the other side of the table. Ygritte, beside him, was a bright red, clearly drunk out of her mind. Arya quite liked Jon's girlfriend, just like Gendry had said, mainly because she was just so…blunt, not to mention funny and beautiful.

"Oh shut up, pretty boy. Go back to making out with your girlfriend," Theon retorted, gulping down a large amount of beer, before beginning to cough.

"Oh god, here he goes," Arya heard Jeyne mutter, politely turning away from her boyfriend's best friend. Theon had always been an awful drinker, despite his boastings. In fact, most things he boasted about, he was usually terrible at.

"Alright, alright," Robb said, after thumping Theon on the back. "Let's move on. What about you, Gendry, any stories to tell?"

Gendry seemed to turn away as everyone's eyes fell on him. Arya stared at him as well, from her spot next to him. She had been placed in between him and Jon.

"Well, not particularly…but I have a question," he replied politely.

Edmure grinned, and gripped his blonde girlfriend by the waist tighter. "Ask away, then!"

"Why isn't Sansa here?"

For a moment, everyone stared at him, as if he had grown an extra head. Arya wanted to hit him, because how could anyone be so stupid? He didn't even know Sansa, didn't even care about her, so why would he ask such a thing? Everyone at the table seemed to grow uneasy, not sure how to reply. She doubted that any of them would yell at him for being rude, because even though Robb was a massive tight ass and Theon a dick, they wouldn't say anything.

So, Arya simply did what she thought was right. She stood up, grabbed him by the arm, and dragged him away from the table and outside of Robb and Theon's house. Ghost and Grey Wind were fighting playfully in the backyard when they exited the house.

"Arya, for fucks sake, stop!" Gendry snapped when they were out of earshot, shoving her away.

"Are you really that stupid?" she countered, crossing her arms over her chest.

"No, it's an honest question! Sansa…she's your sister."

"So? You don't know what's happened!"

"Which is why I'm asking." Gendry was glaring at her, his blue eyes shining with ferocity.

"She's dating fucking Joffrey again, okay?" Arya finally said, turning away from him straight as she said it and beginning to walk back towards the house, but Gendry grabbed her shoulder firmly and spun her around.

"What do you mean? You don't honestly believe that, do you?"

"What do you mean? Of course I believe it, everyone's talking about it. People say they've seen them holding hands and…kissing."

"But have you seen them?" Gendry snapped, still holding her shoulder.

"Well, no. Why would everyone lie, though?" Arya snapped.

"Joffrey's a manipulative prick. He could figure something out."

"Why can't you just realise that Sansa is fucking dating Joffrey again?"

"There's no proof!"

For a moment, they both glared at each other, before Arya huffed and looked away. She never usually looked away, but today…she was exhausted and confused from her nightmare, and hadn't Gendry been it…? The dream was still vague to her, though.

"Look, I'm sorry," he finally said, sounding sincere yet still angry. "I just think you should have a little more trust in her, as she's your sister."

"Yeah, well, we've never really been close," Arya countered sheepishly. "Anyway, can we not talk about this? You should probably go back in there and apologise for being a complete idiot."

Gendry rolled his eyes. "I will, but don't think it's because of you."

"I'd never think such a thing."

She saw him smile slightly, even though he tried to hide it. They both went back inside, ignoring Grey Wind and Ghost's whines at them to play. Everything seemed to have gone back to normal, with Edmure cracking inappropriate jokes that had double meanings and Ygritte making even worse comebacks. Most of them ignored it when they both slipped back into their seats, and Gendry didn't have to apologise, due to the fact that no one brought it up.

"Can we have desert now?" Edmure's girlfriend asked, her voice high and whiny.

Theon muttered something rude under his breath, causing Robb to elbow him sharply. Jeyne, however, smiled widely. "Of course. I think there's chocolate cake and a pavlova…and didn't you make lemon cakes, Theon?"

"Theon made the lemon cakes?" Jon interjected, staring at the Greyjoy. "I don't think we should even touch them."

"Oh shut it, pretty boy. I'm surprised you can't cook, you look so much like a girl."

"That's sexist, Theon," Arya snapped.

"Oh, I'm sorry Arya, I didn't notice."

Everyone started to laugh, while Theon just smiled his usual annoying smile. Arya rolled her eyes, yet it was still…nice to be with everyone again. Even Edmure's girlfriend, who looked like she was trying to slide her hand down his pants without anyone noticing.

Jeyne got up and began serving desert, and maybe it was just a coincidence, but Arya noticed no one touched the lemon cakes, and she didn't think it was because Theon made them.

.

Gendry loved it when he had no classes or lectures, when he could just lie in bed and relax and drink as much coffee as he wanted. Even though he had gone with Arya and Jon to Robb and Theon's little gathering, the rest of the day was still free to use. From what he could gather, Arya was planning to go to Beric Dondarrion, presumably about her father's death. Or at least that's the conclusion he had stumbled upon.

It was a sunny day yet again, and Gendry felt like he was wasting it, lying on his bed inside, listening to his iPod and thinking. He knew that if he went out he would have to take Ghost, though, as Ygritte had seemed to have had enough of the dog. When they had left Robb and Theon's, she gladly handed him over. To Gendry, that was perfectly understandable. Ghost was so big…and had an uncanny sense of knowing when his owner was displeased. According to Arya, though, that was how all their dogs had been, ever since they had been found on the outskirts of Winterfell on a family bike ride.

He sighed, and stretched lazily. It wasn't like he had to go anywhere, as he could just walk around leisurely and not do much. Jon had gone off to band practise, while Arya was still in her room, studying. She had come back from a lecture nearly an hour ago.

Gendry stood up from his bed, taking one of his earphones out and making his way to her room. The door was open, and she was sprawled out on the floor, a great deal of art stuff surrounding her. A big sketchbook was in the middle, and she seemed to be sketching a landscape or something along those lines.

"It looks good," he commented offhandedly. She looked up, startled, and then rolled her eyes.

"Thanks," Arya said, turning her attention back to the sketchbook.

"Well, I'm going for a walk. When are you meeting with Beric?"

She glared at him. "I told you to not mention that."

"Yeah, it's kinda hard not to, y'know. Anyway, it doesn't matter. You can do what you want. It's not like I'm your brother or anything," Gendry said lazily, stretching yet again. "I'll see you later."

"Yeah, see you." It was clear that Arya wasn't paying much attention to him as she continued to sketch.

He left her to it and hurried downstairs and outside. As he thought, Ghost jumped up where he was tied up and bounded over to him, barking playfully. Gendry untied the leash keeping him tied up and whistled. The dog trotted obediently by his leg as he walked out of the front yard and onto the street.

Gendry didn't exactly know where he was going, but he kept walking anyway, deciding to head to the university grounds. Sure, he hated the place, but the grounds were nice and clean and sunny, and maybe there would be a stick there for Ghost to play with. He made his way there, his iPod on full blast with Ghost trotting beside him.

The university grounds only contained a few people, most simply sitting down and talking. Gendry walked through the grounds, occasionally waving at a few people he recognised from classes and around, while Ghost ran around for a bit, weaving and dancing through the crowds of people. He found an empty bench and sat down, closing his eyes and leaning back, soaking up the sunshine.

He didn't know how long he sat there for, but it wasn't until he heard Ghost barking that he finally opened his eyes. The dog was right beside him, surprisingly, and looking agitated.

"What is it?" Gendry asked, sitting up and stretching. As a response, the dog got up and began to run to the entrance of the uni grounds. "Ghost, wait up!" It wasn't until he saw what the dog was running to that he stopped moving. There, at the entrance of the grounds, was Joffrey and who could only be Sansa. Jon had showed him photos of her, and Arya had told him of her appearance. What made it even worse was that she was holding hands with Joffrey, and there was a small tight smile on her face. She didn't look happy, but then again she wasn't exactly running away from him.

It was Sansa who saw Ghost bounding up to her, and she froze in surprise. Gendry hurried over to them, wanting to make sure the damn dog wasn't going to do anything nasty.

"Ghost!" he called, and he felt Sansa and Joffrey's eyes on him as he made his way over.

Arya's sister was, as she had said, beautiful, and looked at him, startled, while Joffrey glared with a half-smile on his face.

"Gendry," he greeted thinly. "You got a dog?"

"No, its Jon's," Gendry replied icily, grabbing the dog by the scruff and dragging him away from Sansa.

"Have you met my girlfriend? You'd probably know her as your roommates' sister, though. I don't think you've met?"

"No. We haven't."

He knew he was being cold, yet Sansa didn't look offended in the slightest. She looked more…disappointed.

"I'm Sansa," she told him, smiling almost elegantly.

"Arya told me you came to Winterfell with the Tyrells. I didn't know you were staying with Joffrey," Gendry said, trying to keep his tone neutral.

Sansa smiled. "Joff kindly took us in and well…we kind of just…I've never stopped loving him."

Joff? She calls him Joff? And didn't Arya say that Sansa had well and truly hated Joffrey? He was confused, yet she didn't look sad or anything. Maybe she was just hiding it well?  
"How are you doing, Gendry? How's the engineering going?" Joffrey interrupted his thoughts, smiling coldly.

"Fine. What about you? How's Baratheon Corp. going?"

It seemed to be a bad question to ask, for the blonde man suddenly got all flustered and annoyed. "As good as it's ever been," he said, yet it was a clear lie.

Ghost was still struggling against Gendry's hands, and he decided to leave. The conversation was so…tense and he didn't particularly feel like talking to Joffrey.

"I should be going," he told them quickly, grabbing Ghost and hauling him to the other side of his body. "Maybe I'll see you both later."

"Of course, Gendry. We haven't talked in ages, though, so I might give you a call," Joffrey said. "I'll see you around."

It sounded almost like a threat, but the man hadn't really said anything completely nasty, so Gendry ignored it and began to walk off.

"It was nice meeting you!" Sansa called from behind him.

He turned back and smiled tightly. "You too."

Gendry ran home, with Ghost bounding ahead of him, still looking slightly agitated. He didn't want to believe that Arya had been right, because…well, he had been so sure that she was wrong. From what Jon and Arya had told him about Sansa, she just didn't seem likely to do that…but clearly, he had been wrong. I still think it's a bit harsh of them to not even invite her or give her a chance to explain herself, he thought dryly. There was probably a good reason.

When Gendry arrived back at home, he tied Ghost up outside and entered the house. Arya was lounging on the couch eating potato chips, to his surprise. She had been eating better, lately, which was good. She looked up when he entered, and at once got up and went towards him.

"Look…" she began, "I know I said that I didn't want you to mention the whole Dondarrion thing…but…"

"Yes?" Gendry pressed.

"Could you take me there? If I took my car, Jon will honestly get all big brotherly and over-protective on me, but if he sees us both gone and your car is gone, he won't."

He rolled his eyes. "First, you don't tell me anything and tell me to forget about it, and now you want me to take you?"

Arya grinned at him. "Yeah, exactly. Oh, and, by the way, when I say you taking me there, I mean you take me there every time…not just this once."

"That's…a bit…don't you think that's too much to ask?" He tried to ignore the smile spreading across his face, just because she smiled and laughed and grinned.

"Not at all. Can we go now? I'm meant to be there at four, and it's, what, ten to?"

Gendry smiled at her, and he saw her freeze slightly, but then grin back at him. "Let's go, then."

They headed outside, and both of them ignored Ghost pulling against his leash as they made their way to Gendry's rather average Holden. He got in the drivers seat while she got in the passenger, and he began to drive to Beric's.

"How do you know this…Beric Dondarrion, anyway?" Arya asked.

"Old friend, I suppose. I met him when I was living in King's Landing. He was a part-time professor there. He helped me out a lot," he explained.

"How old is this guy?"

"Who knows? He's good at what he does, though."

"So…you've asked him to investigate things?" Arya looked at him, her eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"Yeah, only once. It didn't cost much and…I found out what I wanted."

She still stared at him, and Gendry rolled his eyes.

"You're not going to tell me?" she asked, biting her lip.

"Why would I? You're not telling me why you're going."

Arya smiled slightly. "Fair enough."

The rest of the car trip was spent in a comfortable silence, and finally Gendry pulled up outside Beric's familiar office, which was on the outskirts of Winterfell. It was a small cramped apartment, and it held no sign that Beric was actually a P.I and not some random citizen. That was what he had wanted, though.

"Is this it?" Arya asked, frowning at the place. "It looks…like a dump."

Gendry laughed and nodded as he stopped the car and turned it off. They got out and began to walk towards the door, and he knocked on it loudly. It took a few moments before Beric finally came to the door, and opened it.

He looked worse than he had last time Gendry had seen him. His hair seemed to be falling out, he was a lot skinnier, and his eyes weren't as kind as he remembered. Arya stared at him in shock.

"Gendry," Beric greeted. "And you…" For a moment he stared. "You're Arya Stark."

"You know me?" she asked, looking flustered.

Of course he knows you, Gendry thought dryly, we called him a few days ago. Yet he knew why she was asking, as Beric had never seen her before and had no way of really knowing…

"I knew your father…I worked with him for awhile. I'm very sorry."

Arya bit her lip, and Gendry gave her a friendly nudge with his hip. "She wants you to investigate something. She won't tell me what, though. Do you mind if I just wait around in the lounge?" he asked.

"Of course. Thoros isn't here, unfortunately, but I'll tell him you dropped by. Come in, you two."

They both entered the crummy apartment, and Beric led Arya through to his office, while Gendry simply made his way to the lounge. It was the same as it had been when he had come to Beric, with a few scruffy couches and a simple T.V, as well as the kitchen which was connected to it. Unfortunately, the office was connected to the lounge as well, and Gendry could clearly see Arya and Beric discussing things. He couldn't hear them, though.

To his surprise, it didn't take as long as he thought. He had thought it would take nearly half an hour, but after Beric had given Arya some kind of folder, she had read it for nearly ten minutes and that was it. They both left the office, Arya looking a lot more sombre than she had before, clutching a folder tightly to her chest.

"Are you going back?" Gendry asked, when she made her way towards him.

She nodded. "Next week, same time."

Beric was standing in the doorway of his office, smiling. "It was nice meeting you finally, Arya. Your father spoke nothing but praise about you."

She smiled at him. "Thank you."

"I'll do my best to find out as much as I can."

They left the apartment in silence, Gendry not wanting to ask her what had happened.

"Is everything…okay?"

"Yeah. It's just…I mean, yeah. Everything's okay."

He rolled his eyes at her antics. Sometimes Arya seemed to think she was smart and fooling everyone…or maybe she just did that on purpose.

"Did Beric help with whatever you wanted?" he questioned.

"He said he'd help me with a few things and gave me some helpful stuff as well," Arya told him distantly as they got inside the car.

The car trip was spent in silence, something which Gendry was thankful for.

.

The manila folder was on her desk, with many dents and rips from the amount of times Arya had handled it. She had opened it countless times, and sorted through its contents. When Beric had handed it to her, she knew he didn't want her to see it. Yet she had, and she regretted it. There was…a name in it, which scared her to bits. She didn't want to think or look into it. Arya began to wonder if she had been left in the dark the entire time, due to her…lapse.

It wasn't very full, only containing a few slips of paper, and there wasn't any incriminating evidence against Joffrey Baratheon or anything of the sort. Instead, it just contained evidence that Ned Stark hadn't actually died from the stress and his extremely high blood pressure. She sighed and opened the folder once again, looking through its contents. There was a small autopsy report written in loopy handwriting, and a police case neatly typed.

**_Autopsy Report:_ **

__

__

_Eddard Stark_

__

_Chief of Winterfell_

__

_Born: 17th August, 1975_

__

_Died: 25th October, 2010_

__

_Cause: Unknown. No trace of any disease or heart issues, no notable wounds, no suspicious substances found in blood stream._

_**Police Investigation:**_

__

_Victim: Eddard Stark_

__

_Suspects: No evidence found against any; however some include – Cersei Baratheon, Joffrey Baratheon, Tywin Lannister, Tyrion Lannister, Gendry Waters_

__

_Witnesses: Catelyn Stark, Robb Stark, Jon Snow_

__

_Information: Wife of the victim claims that she suspects the Baratheon's to be part of it, as well as claiming that the victim met up with a young adult (G. Waters) several days before his demise. Son of the victim says that he thinks that the Baratheons and Lannisters are involved, as does the presumed son Jon Snow._

__

_Case was closed on January 3rd, 2011, due to no new leads or evidence._

That name was there. Gendry Waters. He was written neatly into the suspects, and he had met her dad. Gendry couldn't not know, as he had heard Jon and her talk about him nearly half a hundred times. And if Jon's name was written in the folder, had he seen it? Then again, Arya didn't even know how Beric Dondarrion got hold of the file, though he claimed he had access to most police records as he was a rather…professional P.I.

It had been nearly four days since she had visited Beric, and still she hadn't talked to Gendry about it. She had very nearly confronted Jon, and had contemplated calling Robb and asking him, yet she decided against it. Surely Gendry had a perfect legitimate reason for speaking with her father just days before his death? And how did Catelyn know about that, as well? Had her dad been investigating something before his death? Her mother as well?

Arya had relentlessly fired these questions at Beric, asking him to try and find out as much as possible. Naturally he had agreed, not only because he used to work for her father, but also because he thought that the claims the Baratheons and Lannisters were the cause of his death were true. She doubted Tyrion did it, even though his name was written there. It was odd that they hadn't included Jaime, for if anything she would suspect him more than his mutated brother. With Tywin Lannister…well she had never even met that man, so it wasn't like she could say much about him. He resided in King's Landing.

She had always been angry at her dad's old friend Robert, simply for causing their family this much trouble. Ned had already been working under Robert, so why did he need to take over Baratheon Corp.? And what was that damn company? Arya felt stupid for not knowing anything, but that was why she had asked for help from Beric.

"Arya?" a voice interrupted her thoughts, and she quickly shoved the folder under her pillow. Jon was at the door, smiling slightly. "Oh, sorry, I thought you weren't up yet."

"It's bloody twelve o'clock, Jon. I'm not that lazy," she said dryly.

"Well, anyway, are you ready for your lecture? It starts in nearly half an hour, and if you plan to walk again…"

"I'll drive. Can I take your car?"

Jon nodded, and started to leave but stopped suddenly. "You look a bit better than you did a few days ago."

Arya shrugged. It was true, in a way. A whole week of university had passed, and she was feeling more confident. Mythology was a breeze, and graphics was simple as well. Her teacher, Ternesio Terys, who was from Braavos, was slightly…strange, and used to be a sailor, until he retired. Everyone simply called him Terry, though, because his name was too long and complicated, like most Braavosi names.

She grabbed the folder and shoved it in its usual hidden place, in one of the mysterious drawers on her bedside table. Arya was still wearing her pyjama's, because…well, why not? There was a pair of plain jeans and an over sized tee lying on the ground, so she grabbed them, took off her pyjamas and slipped the rather baggy clothes on. It was comfortable, and that's really all she cared about.

When she went downstairs, Gendry was lying on the couch, watching the T.V, while Jon was busy in the kitchen. Both of them greeted her when they saw her.

"Hey," she said, grabbing her bag from beside the door. "Is there anything to eat?"

"Not really. Just grab a piece of bread or something," Jon told her, reaching over and tossing a bag of sliced bread to her.

"Wow, thanks."

Her brother rolled his eyes. "I doubt you care."

She smiled at him, grabbed a piece of bread and the keys before hurrying out the door. "See you!" she shouted behind her.

Arya drove to university as quickly as possible for her lecture. When she hurried to Room 18, a lecture room, most people were already seated. Edric Dayne was also there, and he waved her over.

"How are you going?" he asked politely, patting the seat next to him.

She sat down, and smiled. "Yeah, I'm fine. You?"

"Great." Ned seemed about to say something else, but Tyrion entered, and the class became quiet.

The lecture went quickly, as Tyrion explained things calmly and also added interesting touches to his speeches. Arya found it easy to take notes, and she filled up her page in no time at all, understand all of the concepts.

"…Some claim that Persephone had fallen in love with Hades. However, if you read further into it, the theories claiming that aren't very…factual and straight. I doubt you'd fall in love with a God who kidnapped you and planned to keep you there as his little pet for awhile…"

When the lecture finally ended, there was a series of stretching and yawns as everyone picked up their books and notes. Ned was smiling at her as she packed up hers.

"Do you find mythology interesting?" he asked, picking up his bag and beginning to walk out of the room.

"Yeah…I'm not sure, I just like most of them. Some of them are boring, though," Arya said, following him.

Tyrion waved at them as they left, and she wanted to bring up the whole police thing, but decided against it. If her professor truly was a suspect and actually did kill her father, then it would be unwise to mention it to him.

"What about Persephone and Hades?"

"It's…interesting. I mean, it obviously didn't happen, but…"

"You don't think it happened? Why not?" Ned was staring at her so intently that she looked away almost shyly. Me? Shy? When did this happen?

"Well…I mean, there's no proof that a God even exists!" she protested.

"People say that there was once a God called R'hllor, and another called the Other, and that they were constantly at war with one another."

"People say. There's no evidence, and yes, I know that there's no evidence that they aren't true either."

Edric Dayne laughed. "You're…different," he said eventually.

"Yeah…?"

He smiled, and opened his mouth to say something but his phone beeped loudly. They were outside, now, in the university grounds, and thankfully it wasn't one of those warm sunny days. Instead, it was cold and the wind was blowing icily.

"Is everything alright?" Arya asked when she saw Ned's facial expression turn grim.

"Sorry, I have to go. Something's happened…family stuff, y'know?" he explained quickly, shoving his phone in his pocket.

"Yeah," she replied dryly as Ned hurried off, "I know."

Arya didn't go home straight away. She drove around Winterfell for a bit, and almost contemplated visiting the pizza place which Hot Pie claimed he worked at, but decided against it. Her old friend wasn't exactly at the top on her priorities list at the moment.

Several people waved at her as she drove around the town, most likely recognising her as being Ned Stark's daughter. When he had been alive, she had always walked around town with him, simply looking at the sights. Even though the Starks had been in Winterfell for ages, and her father had been there since he was born, Ned had often said that there was always something different about their home every time you walked around, if you looked close enough.

She drove for ages, going into places she had never been. At around four, Arya decided to walk, wanting to go to several memorable alleyways which contained graffiti that Ned and she had both enjoyed. The alleyway was easy to find once she parked her car outside it, and the graffiti was still the same, swirls of colours and pictures. Once, she had considered being a graffiti artist, but had decided against it. Designing was her thing.

Footsteps behind her alerted her, and when Arya spun around she saw a man standing there, dressed in black. His face wasn't covered or anything of the sort, and she didn't recognise him at all, even though there was something vaguely familiar about him.

"Are you Arya Stark?" The man's voice was commanding and hoarse, and oh god, he was a giant.

She didn't respond, and instead stared at him in fright. He began to approach her slowly, and she knew that this was about the time that she would run. Yet her legs were frozen, and it was like that time when Joffrey had visited her. The man made a move to grab her, but Arya ducked underneath his legs, using her small frame as an advantage, and began to run. Her car was in view, and she was nearly there, she could make it…

His hands grabbed her shoulders and slammed her into the brick wall with so much force that for a moment she saw stars in her vision. Arya moved without sight, kicking in random places and making pathetic punches. When her vision finally returned, she realised that her punches must not have been that pathetic, because the man seemed to be at a safe distance.

"Who are you?" she snapped, going into a defensive stance that…well, she had seen people do it in movies.

The man laughed, and it was cruel and hoarse and scared her. Her head ached and there was blood dripping down her face. He reached out again and she dodged, not bothering to go for her car. They were further down the alleyway than they had been previously, and she couldn't see anyone around. Where's everyone gone? There were people here a second ago…

Arya kept dodging, unsure what to do. She kept looking back to her car, aching to run down there, but how? Her momentary thoughts distracted her, and a fist connected with her face and she felt her teeth rattle at the impact, and had one just fallen out? The reality of the situation finally sank in as she lay on the ground and the man approached her. He's taunting me, right? He wouldn't kill me, no, he can't!

He grabbed her by the scruff of her shirt and pulled her up effortlessly. Arya struggled vainly against his grip.

"You look like your fucking father," he informed her almost conversationally, before slamming her on the ground viciously.

This time, she didn't hesitate to run to her car once her vision cleared and she got up. She was faster than him, she had to be. He was so big and she was small, it made sense, didn't it? His footsteps were loud and she could hear him, but couldn't even vaguely sense where he was. Her vision was going all strange and distorted, and her whole face ached. Arya reached her car, and she rummaged around in her pockets, looking for her car keys.

"Hurry up!" she screamed at herself, spilling all kind of things out of her pockets. The man reached her effortlessly, and when Arya turned she paled instantly. He was holding a gun and smiling cruelly at her.

"You Starks are all the same. Your fucking sister is probably even stronger than you."

Sansa. Was she okay? Arya was confused as she stared at the man, and she hardly felt scared when she heard him flick the safety lock off. You were so eager to die before, so why should it matter now? a cruel voice whispered inside her head. She opened her mouth to scream, because surely someone was around, when something blurred past her vision and attacked the man. The gun dropped out of his hand, and Arya reached for it instantly.

There was a dog attacking him, and it looked familiar, so familiar…She didn't dwell on it, even as she felt the rush of excitement in her heart as she finally recognised the dog. It was attacking the man, but he was so big and Nymeria…well, as much as she loved her dog, surely…

"Stop!" Arya screamed hysterically, pointing the gun at the man. Nymeria seemed to sense what she was trying to do, and stopped suddenly. The man got up quickly, and…was he fucking dusting himself off?

He laughed at her, and spat blood on the concrete. "I bet you've never killed someone before, little lady. You fucking pathetic slut." The man lunged at her, and tried to grab the gun out of her hands. She pulled the trigger, and a bullet flew up into the sky, a loud noise filling the silent air around them. Arya felt a few fingers snap when he finally wrestled it out of her hands.

"Now die, you and your stupid fucking dog!" he shouted, and Nymeria and her both lunged at the same time, the adrenaline filling her up, making her forget about the pain in her heads and oh god, her head.

The man fell backwards, and Arya finally grabbed the gun in her left hand, the uninjured one, and ran. She kept running, not even checking if Nymeria was behind her. When she finally stopped, there were still no people around her. Arya found a bin and slammed the gun in it, and stared around her. Someone cleared everyone out, she realised. The adrenaline suddenly faded, and she felt pain everywhere. Arya fell on the concrete, which was surprisingly quite comfortable.

Just a little rest and then I'll get up, she thought pathetically, even though she could hear footsteps approaching her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's annoying because as I copy and paste this from my fanfiction.net account, the thoughts of the characters (which are always in italics) don't show. So if something doesn't really make sense maybe presume it's a thought? It's really annoying however I'm not really one to go through the whole thing and put the italic HTML tags through so...yeah. Hope you enjoyed anyway!


	5. Chapter 5

Arya knew perfectly well where she was. The bright lights and the putrid smell of disinfectant, and the people looking worried and anxious and sometimes the faint smell of flowers. It didn't feel like a dream, and maybe that's because it wasn't really. A simple memory, one she had perfected in tucking away at the back of her head, one of the worst she had ever experienced.

Jon was sitting next to her, rubbing her shoulder as comfort, and so was Robb and Theon and Sansa and Catelyn and Bran and Rickon and Edmure and…everyone was there, impatiently waiting. After awhile her mother was called by a nurse, and Catelyn Stark hurried over, her lovely long red hair all knotty and her face worried. They all sat there, in tense silence, until she returned, and suddenly their mother who has always been strong breaks down.

"He's gone."

Arya stared at her mother, as they all did, and it was only until Sansa howled with agony that she snapped out of it. Her body felt numb, like all the life had been sucked out of it. Jon was shaking her, whispering comforting things and telling her that everything would be alright, that they would all manage. Yet her half-brother is the first to leave King's Landing that same evening, followed by Robb and Theon in the morning. Edmure comes soon after, promising to call when he reaches Riverrun, and then Sansa disappears into the huge city of King's Landing. They all went back to Winterfell a month after Ned Stark's death, seeing no need to stay. Baratheon Corp. was a haunting memory, albeit somewhat fleeting.

The journey back to their home was silent, and everything goes chaotic at home. Arya found herself failing, Sansa…she didn't know what her sister did after hours, but it couldn't be good. Sometimes she returned with bruises on her face and tears in her eyes, yet Arya can't comfort her. All the energy inside her was gone, and that once so daring and eager growing woman is replaced by a coward, a little girl who misses her daddy.

All the pain in her chest was crushing, and sometimes she couldn't breathe in class, because it's so hard not to cry. They all know her father is dead. Ned Stark was…he was Winterfell, he was everything in it. Everyone wished her the best, but why? That wouldn't bring her father back.

Her mother thought she hated everyone, her sister thought she hated the Baratheons and Lannisters, her little brothers thought she hated her family, but really Arya Stark just hated herself.

The memory kept dancing by, flickering in her vision. It felt like a dream, but wasn't. She was reliving something she had never wanted to relive, going back to the moment when everything fell apart and the 'old' Arya died. The vague pain in her chest and heart began to fade, replaced by a burning sensation in her right hand and a deep pain in her head that throbbed. Her whole body felt heavy and out of use, and she didn't know why. Had she gotten drunk when returning to Winterfell after her father's death?

Slowly, Arya felt the lines of her thoughts and dreams blur with reality, and her eyes snapped open. She wasn't in a hospital, and it didn't smell like disinfectant. It smelt like…whatever that deodorant Theon sprayed on his body every ten seconds. There was someone moving, and she could see a shadow and it definitely looked male.

"Jon?" she whispered pathetically, her throat feeling hoarse.

The person seemed to stop what he was doing and hurry over to her. It wasn't Jon, though, Arya realised as she looked closer. Her brother didn't have those bright blue eyes…She shot up immediately, her thoughts instantly going to Joffrey Baratheon.

"Woah! Arya, lie down!" Strong hands reached out and gripped her shoulders, trying to push her back down on the tatty couch – would Joffrey really keep a couch like that? – but she struggled against them. "Arya, its Gendry!"

She froze suddenly, and let him push her back down. His hands lingered on her shoulder, before finally pulling away completely. Gendry…Waters. He was suspected of her father's 'murder', he was…

But he's also been kind and caring to you, and not to much incredibly he's hot, a voice pointed out in her head.

"Gendry? What…what are you doing in my room?"

It wasn't her room, though, Arya knew that. She didn't have a tatty old couch in her nice new room.

Her roommate ignored her question. "What happened, Arya?" he demanded, sitting on the edge of the couch.

She stared at him. "What do you mean…?" she asked slowly.

"I mean, do you just happen to have an explanation to why you were lying on the ground fucking passed out when I found you?"

"Don't tell me you were worried."

Gendry glared at her, looking annoyed. "Of course I was worried!" he snapped harshly. "You think I wouldn't be? You disappeared, and Jon tried to call you but you wouldn't pick up. And then we find out that you left the university grounds and went on a fucking leisurely drive."

"Well, I'm sorry," Arya mumbled.

"You think sorry is enough?"

"Oh, I'm sorry. I don't have to tell you every fucking thing I do! I'm not some five year old girl who doesn't know her way around Winterfell!"

"You're fingers are broken, there's a lump on your head as well as a cut, and you have bruises all over your body…" He trailed off angrily. "And yet you're telling me that you're sorry?"

"Well, what do you want me to do? Go back in time?"

Gendry sighed exasperatedly. "Look, can you try and remember something?"

"Look," Arya snapped, "I was probably attacked, okay? Winterfell may not be as bad as Harrenhal, but it's certainly not the safest place there is."

"No, this is because you went to bloody Beric Dondarrion and starting messing around in business that's not yours."

"So my father's death isn't my business?" she demanded.

"No, look…some things are just better left…unsaid, y'know? Some things you just don't need to know," he explained.

Arya glared at him. Like the fact that my father visited you a few days before his death, she thought icily, but she didn't say anything. "Does it even matter?" she snapped, closing her eyes. Her head was hurting, and even though the couch was fairly comfortable she wanted to go back to her room.

"I'm sorry, okay?" Gendry said sincerely. "I was just…worried. So was Jon."

"Does he know I'm here?"

"Not yet…"

She rolled her eyes at him. "You really are stupid, aren't you? Jon's my brother, and you haven't even called him? How long have I been here, anyway?"

"Barely a day. You should call Jon. He'd rather hear your voice than mine," he told her.

"You think?"

.

The house was abnormally quiet. Sure, normally it wasn't extremely loud with shouting and laughing, but without Arya, it felt…weird. Jon hated it, and he loathed the fact that he didn't know where his sister was. She had disappeared so suddenly, and he was expecting the worst. Lately, he had been feeling like Arya was hiding something from him, which wasn't really that unusual, but still…

Gendry had gone out looking for her in the morning, and not it was nearly afternoon and Jon hadn't heard from either of them. His sister had gone missing last night, and it hadn't taken them long to notice. Almost immediately they had gone to the university, despite it being nearly nine at night. After asking around, they both found out that Arya had left the university, which was possibly the worst thing they wanted to hear.

He sighed, and checked his phone yet again. There were no new messages from Gendry or Arya, only a quick text from Sam, telling him their next band practise was tomorrow. It had been sent to all the other members too. Lately, their band, Black Brothers, had been hitting off, and they were getting calls to perform at the Dreadfort soon, which Jon knew was where Ramsay Bolton, Theon Greyjoy's dickhead boss came from. Why would it matter? Jon thought as he paced around the house. Either way we'll be earning money.

The text came from Gendry's phone at three, although it was clearly from Arya, and it was short and sharp and to the point.

 **Gendry Waters:** Gendry found me, am staying at his old house. Don't worry too much, lots of love xx

He couldn't help it – he shouted with relief and collapsed onto the couch. People often underestimated how close his sister and he were. They just…connected. When Jon had been younger and was shunned for being the 'Bastard of Winterfell', Arya had always been there, wanting to practise fencing or archery or play catch. He grew to love her like she truly was his own sister, even though she was his half-sister. Then again, he didn't even know if that was true. Ned Stark had never told him who his true parents were.

Jon texted up a long reply, mainly because, well…he couldn't exactly help it.

 **Jon Snow:** Arya, thank goodness you're alright. Tell Gendry thank you as well, and is everything okay? You're not injured, are you? You might want to call Catelyn, as well as Robb and Theon. I called them when we found you were still missing in the morning and they've been searching the whole day. Sansa also called, although I'm not sure why. I told her you were missing, and she was extremely worried, so please call her back too. I love you, Arya, and please stay safe.

Another text immediately beeped up, except this time it was from Tormund, the drummer in their band.

 **Tormund Giantsbane:** Oi crow, meet me at the House of the Undying pub. I need to talk to you pronto.

Jon couldn't help but roll his eyes, but he got up either way and shoved his phone in his pocket, as well as grabbing his guitar. His familiar Ute was sitting at the front of the house, and he got in and drove to the House of the Undying, which was owned by one of the Targaryen brothers, Visyris. Visigti was an arrogant prick, but the pub had excellent acoustics and the Black Brothers often played there.

Tormund was outside the pub, leaning casually against it. People often wondered how their band was ever formed, due to the fact that Tormund was a great deal older than them, and sure, Orell was sort of the same age, but then there was Mance, the singer, and they were all older than Jon. Not that he minded, though. They all played good music together and got along nicely.

"Crow!" the drummer roared when he finally parked his car and got out.

Jon grinned at him. "Tormund, how's it going?"

"Not much, crow, not much. I just…I mean, we need to talk, mate."

"About…?"

Tormund grimaced slightly. "Ygritte."

He froze instantly, and stared at his friend. "What do you mean…?" Jon asked carefully. Orell's beautiful young girlfriend, Ygritte, was…she was…he doubted he could fit anything into words.

"You bloody well know what I mean," the drummer snapped. "I've seen 'yer, and so have we all. You been flirting with Orell's girlfriend, and sure she's a lovely lady, but honestly, crow, keep 'ya hands to yourself."

"Look, Orell isn't even right for her. I'm not saying he's a bad guy, because he's not, but…"

"You'd be better for her, aye. Even Mance agrees on that one, but you could fuck things up for the band if you go for her. You know what Orell's like."

Jon sighed. "I'm sorry, okay? I'll try and…"

"Just don't fuck shit up," Tormund said harshly, before grinning. "Anyway, crow, seeing as we're here, why don't we practise a bit? You don't have anything on, do 'yer?"

"Sorry, Tormund…I don't…I mean, I brought my guitar, but still. I don't think I can. I've got a few things going on at the moment that I want to attend to."

The drummer nodded. "I know you're a good man, crow. I'll see you at practise tomorrow."

Jon watched him enter the pub, presumably to get drunk. Tormund had a rather bad drinking problem, and even though he was going to Alcohol Anonymous, it still didn't seem to be helping. His Ute was still warm from the drive to the House of the Undying, which was bliss as it had started becoming cooler in Winterfell. There had been a few days where the sky was clear and there was no snow, but now it was freezing, and snow was beginning to fall.

Gendry's old apartment was in an average suburban area of Winterfell, and Jon remembered visiting there a few times before they both moved in with each other. It had been a nice apartment, if a bit run down. He parked the car outside and hurried to the door. Inside, there was the sound of soft voices, presumably Gendry and Arya's. Jon felt his heart swell at the thought of his little sister, because he had been just…so worried about her.

The door opened before he could knock, and Gendry stood at the door, almost a little awkwardly.

"Hey," he greeted, opening the door wider.

"Hey…is Arya okay?" Jon asked, entering the house. He peeped in and saw her lying on the couch, looking rather worse for wear, but it was still her. "Arya!"

She sat up a bit clumsily, smiling slightly at him. When he reached the side of the couch he threw his arms around her, clutching her tight towards his chest.

"Sorry Jon," Arya whispered, finally gently pushing off his arms and lying back down on the couch. "I really didn't mean to worry you."

"What happened? Are you okay? Do you remember anything?" He couldn't help but fire relentless questions, and he vaguely heard Gendry laugh.

"I don't…I mean, I remember some things, but it's all really…blurry."

"What do you remember?" Jon pressed. "I'll beat the shit out of them, whoever it was."

"So will I," Gendry added, going to sit beside him.

Arya smiled gratefully. "I know…but, I don't remember who. I was just…looking at some street art, I think? They came up behind me, and I remembered trying to run, and he had a gun, but…" She paused suddenly, and gasped. "Oh god…Nymeria…she was there."

"Nymeria?" Jon said, unable to keep the disbelief out of his voice. "Sis, are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure. She was there, and she just started attacking him." Her face was etched with worry. "Do you think she'll be okay?"

"Who's Nymeria?" Gendry interjected. "Some old friend or…?"

"My dog."

Their roommate looked amused at that. "I should've known."

"I thought Nymeria was dead…" Jon said slowly.

"So did I," Arya replied honestly. "I mean…she just…disappeared."

"Oh well. It doesn't really matter, does it? I've glad your safe." Jon hugged his sister tightly again, and he could feel her smiling into his shoulder. He noticed Gendry seemed to smile almost softly at the sight of them, as if he too was glad Arya was back. Of course he's glad, he thought, she's his roommate.

.

Sansa tried her best not to fidget as she sat rather impatiently at her table, her hands clasped tightly together. She could see Jaime Lannister ordering their coffee at the counter, and she felt even more nervous. What would Joffrey's uncle want? According to Joffrey, he hadn't exactly been on his good side the past few months, though Sansa didn't know why. It's never good to be on Joffrey's bad side, she thought glumly.

He suddenly arrived at their table, holding two coffee's – a light cappuccino for her and a black coffee for him – smiling slightly. Jaime sat down across from her, and yet again she felt her nerves set on edge.

"Sansa," he began, but then seemed to stop and check his watch. "Someone else is meant to be meeting us here…"

The horror must have been visable on her face, for he instantly smiled warmly at her. "Oh no, not like that. She's a friend. You've never met her before."

That rules out Cersei Lannister, Sansa thought with relief, but she still felt weird about this whole arrangement. When Jaime had asked her to coffee, she hadn't thought much about it, but now it seemed so serious and grim. She was about to ask why they were even there when he suddenly stood up.

"There she is!" he exclaimed, and Sansa noticed a soft smile grace his handsome features. She looked to where he was gazing, and saw a rather masculine female with short blonde hair. When the woman turned around and saw them, she smiled and approached them.

"Brienne," Jaime greeted, hugging her. She couldn't help but notice how intimate the two seemed.

"Jaime," she responded, releasing him and pulling up a chair. "You must be Sansa Stark. I'm Brienne."

Sansa smiled rather nervously, and held out her hand. "It's lovely to meet you," she said politely.

The woman sat down on the other side of Sansa, and for a moment there was an awkward silence.

"Sansa," Jaime began yet again, "I…I think you should move out."

She couldn't help it, really. It was just so…it sounded so rude. "Excuse me?" she said loudly.

"It's clear you don't want to be with Joffrey," he continued, ignoring her little outburst. "I think you'd be a lot happier if you left. It's clear that your family seems to be ignoring you…"

Sansa glared at him, trying her best to pretend to be furious without jumping out of her seat and screaming at him to take her home. "I…first of all, Joff and I are perfectly happily together. And my family is not ignoring me. It's simply a small dispute," she told him, her tone clipped and polite.

"It's perfectly okay to admit that you don't like Joffrey," Brienne added softly. "Jaime and I don't care. We're here to help."  
Somehow she couldn't believe that. She had been told by Cersei Lannister the exact same thing, and when Sansa had trusted her, it had turned out disastrous. "I'd appreciate the help if there was a problem, but seeing as there isn't…"

"Sansa, please." The oldest Lannister brother was beginning to sound rather exasperated. "I'm serious, here. I know that this whole thing with Joffrey is completely bullshit. Tyrion told me everything. He also mentioned that your family isn't taking you in because they're angry at you for dating Joffrey, even though it's not…real."

"It is real," she protested weakly. They're seeing through it, and I want them to, but he said…he told me…

"You can stay with me," Brienne told her. "As…awkward as it seems, I can assure you, you would most definitely prefer my company than Joffrey Baratheon's."

Sansa didn't respond, and clenched her hands together tightly. "I told you before, I'm fine."

"Are you calling my brother a liar then, Sansa?" Jaime stared at her intently, and she knew he was trying a different tactic.

"Of course not. I'm merely saying that his…analysis is off," she replied coolly.

"It's not," the Lannister said. "Sansa, please. You don't need to do this to yourself."

But I do, she thought numbly, because if I don't he said he'd hurt my family, he promised.

"Please, Sansa," Brienne begged, her blue eyes warm.

"I…" she began, but stopped. "What if Joffrey finds out?"

"Well, of course our dear friend Joff will find out. However, Brienne here works at the police force, and why would my nephew suspect me? I'm the beloved uncle. If he makes unwanted threats towards you or your family, I'll have Brienne onto him straight away."

Sansa was shocked for a moment, because she didn't understand. Sure, Jaime Lannister had never been cruel to her, but to offer something like this was weird. She didn't know if it was some nasty joke Joffrey had set up, yet Brienne seemed like a genuinely kind person, so why would she team up with Jaime? And what was with those two anyway? In a way, Sansa thought they looked like a couple.

"I'll…but Margaery? She's my friend," she told them quietly. "I don't want to leave her with Joff…I mean, Joffrey."

Brienne and Jaime exchanged amused glances. "I don't think you need to worry about the Tyrell girl," the Lannister said harshly.

Sansa sighed heavily, and looked down at her hands. I should say yes, she thought. If I say yes, Joffrey will be gone, I can try and get things right with my family.

"Okay," she finally said after a lengthy silence. "I'll…move in with Brienne."

They both smiled at her almost proudly, and Sansa bit her lip. She was still worried that Jaime was going to suddenly tell her that this was all a joke, and that like hell anyone would ever save her from Joffrey. I don't need saving, she thought weakly.

The rest of the time in the café was spent on idle chatter and Brienne telling Sansa that she had made a good choice, and that even though it would be a little weird at first to move in with a complete stranger, it would be for the best. She took in all their words politely, thanking them in the right places, even though inside she wanted to dance around with happiness.

"How am I going to get my stuff?" she asked them as they left the café.

"We'll all go in," Jaime told her. "It's not like Joffrey can do much when you're with a grown man and a police officer."

"Joffrey doesn't know Brienne's an officer."

Brienne smiled slightly. "He will soon enough," she said.

The older woman took her own car to the Lannister's incredibly large house, while Jaime drove Sansa there. When they arrived outside the house, she could feel all the nerves inside her whirling around, and she felt so tense and stressed that she couldn't say anything as they made their way to the front door. It was Brienne who knocked on the door, even though they could of very well just walked in, with Jaime there.

Surprisingly enough, it was Tyrion who opened the door, and he seemed to stare right through her.

"Sansa, Jaime, Brienne," he greeted accordingly, before opening the door for them.

"Tyrion," Jaime said, entering, while Brienne simply nodded and Sansa smiled slightly.

"I'll warn you, brother, our beloved nephew isn't the greatest of moods," Tyrion told them as they walked to the dining room.

"That's fine," the older Lannister replied coolly. "Sansa, go up and get your stuff when we reach the lounge."

Joffrey was lying on the couch, flicking idly through a book that he didn't look he was really enjoyed. As usual, Sandor was behind him, standing menacingly. They both looked up in surprise.

"What a surprise," Joffrey said dryly, before his eyes moved to Brienne. "Is this the beast you've taken a liking to, uncle? I suppose it doesn't really matter, unless she's good in bed."

Brienne flushed, but ignored the taunt. "Sansa is moving out," she told him boldly.

The Baratheon stood at once, and Sansa felt Jaime nudge her to get moving. She started to walk away.

"Sansa!" Joffrey barked. "Get back here."

She turned around slowly, ignoring Brienne's protests.

"You want to stay with me, don't you? We were going to get married, you and I, and have beautiful children."

The words seemed to hang in the air, and Sansa felt like she couldn't breathe. Tyrion seemed to be looking at her almost sympathetically.

"I…" she murmured, then stopped. "I have other things to sort out before we can get married, Joff. That's why I need to move out. Once I'm done, though, we can definitely get married. And we will have children…lovely children…" Her voice trailed off weakly.

"You can sort out your fucking business here!"

"No, Joff, I really can't. I need to move out, with Brienne…"

"And why is that?" Joffrey asked, his eyes gleaming maliciously.

Sansa stared at him, unable to come up with a proper excuse. I probably look like a gaping fish, she thought.

"She's moving in with me," Brienne began loudly, "because she's trying to join the police force."

Joffrey stared at Brienne in shock, and Sansa knew that this was a subtle way of telling him that there was a police officer in the room, and he couldn't do anything.

"That's right," Jaime said, backing her up. "Sansa wants to be a police officer, and whom better than to guide her through the ropes than one of the police's best, Brienne?"

The Baratheon looked almost nervous. "Well…I suppose that will do, then. Once you are finished, though, you will return. Then we'll get married, you and I."

"Of course," Sansa said politely. "I'm going to pack my things now." She left quickly, feeling the tense silence that was about to take place.

When she reached the top of the stairs, Margaery was standing there to her surprise.

"I heard everything," her friend told her, and for a moment the Tyrell woman seemed to be glaring at her. "Do you really want to become a police officer? Don't you need a degree or something like that?"

"I want to help enforce the law," Sansa replied easily. "Brienne will help me, no matter what."

"When did you even meet this Brienne? It couldn't have been long ago. We've been here for barely a fortnight."

"We might awhile ago, when I went with Jaime to look at career options. I told him what I wanted to do, and then he introduced me to Brienne." The lie slipped out of her lips so easily, she almost believed it herself.

Margaery looked dubious, though. "Are you and Joffrey still together, though?"

"I suppose so…"

Her friend seemed to hesitate for a moment, before smiling widely and hugging her tightly. "I'll miss you then," Margaery whispered. "I'm sorry about all this."

"It's fine," Sansa told her. "Everything seems to have worked out fine."

The Tyrell woman released her and flashed another smile. "Yes," she finally said, her eyes shining. "It has worked out fine."

.

Gendry sat in Beric's lounge room just like the week before, and watched them converse. It seemed Arya was still intent on finding out whatever she wanted, even after her little attack. He didn't know why, as it was obviously the reason why she had been attacked so viciously. She was lucky to be alive, and Gendry didn't know why, but he was just so…relieved that Arya was alive and safe, even though a few fingers in her hand were broken.

Even though he and Jon were panicking big time about it, with Jon refusing to allow Arya to go anywhere without a companion, she seemed to have moved on already, not bothering to dwell on it.

"If they really wanted to kill me, they would have shot me before I'd turned around and saw them," Arya had said, and even though it was true in a way, they both just didn't want such a thing to happen.

Gendry didn't know why he was caring so much. Why should he? Sure, she was his roommate, but he didn't need to care for her this much. When he had found her lying there, on the concrete, he remembered the panic that flicked through him. He felt even worse after Arya had told them that she had heard footsteps before blacking out, even though Gendry had found her long after the original attack. Somehow, he didn't want to know who the footsteps had belonged to.

Beric and Arya appeared to be having an argument of some kind, and he was hoping that it was because she had told the investigator about her little…mishap. Maybe Beric would refuse to look into things any further because she had gotten hurt? Gendry doubted it somewhat, for the investigator just wasn't that type of person. It wasn't that he was completely obsessed with the money he got from his clients, it was more the fact that Beric never stopped a case half way, no matter what.

"Gendry." He turned around to see Arya standing there, and blinked slightly. Gendry hadn't even noticed that they had finished.

"How are you going, Gendry?" Beric asked, exiting his small office as well. He noticed that unlike before, Arya wasn't carrying a folder or anything like that.

"Fine," he replied tightly, even though really, he wasn't. It wasn't like he was really upset or something bad had happened, it was just the usual plus Arya. He had been thinking about her a lot lately, and not in the 'annoying roommate' type way. It wasn't like he was all creepy around her or anything. There was just some subtle things he sometimes noticed about her, that seemed really…not cute, but more…nice to him. If nice was the right adjective. And not to mention the fact that university was still a pain in the ass and he didn't want to do it.

"That's good." There was an awkward silence for a moment, before Gendry quickly coughed and got up from the couch.

"Are you ready to go, Arya?" he asked.

"Yeah, sure." She turned to Beric. "I'll see you next week, then."

"Of course. Take care, Arya." The investigator went back into his office, and Arya and Gendry made their way out of the house.

"How did it go?" he questioned, trying to sound as polite and…uninterested as possible.

She stared at him suspiciously. "Fine…"

"Everything…okay?"

Arya seemed to open her mouth as if to say something, but she quickly snapped it shut. "Not really," she said, and it was clear she was lying.

"Well…okay then."

For possibly the first time since Gendry had met Arya, there was an awkward silence as they drove home, and he didn't know why. Even when they sat in silence watching T.V or something simple like that, it was never awkward. In his eyes, they had always been at a simple ease with each other and he knew something must have changed that, but he didn't dare ask. He would only make things more awkward for her, and he didn't know why…but he liked it when Arya talked to him and smiled at him.

When they arrived back at the house, it was empty because Jon was out at band practise. Lately, Gendry had noticed that his roommate had seemed more eager to go to band practise, and he just knew it was because of a girl. Arya hurried up to her room, and he couldn't help but roll his eyes. Clearly, she was pissed at something, but…that was what Jon was there for, not him.

Gendry busied himself with cooking dinner for that night, and smiled. He liked cooking, and his thoughts kept drifting back to Selmy's idea of cooking…but it was only a hobby, really, nothing more. Many things of his were hobbies, and he thought he would've enjoyed engineering, as he did enjoy fixing things in his teenage years, but now…definitely not as a career.

Arya came down once to get something out of the cupboard, but she seemed to stop for a minute, and turned to him.

"Gendry…" she began, and he stopped instantly.

Oh god, he thought, because he had seen that look on his mother before and it hadn't been good.

"Gendry, Beric gave me a file the first time I visited him…and well, there was something a little…surprising in it," she told him, and he blinked.

"Yeah…?" he prompted.

"So basically there was a list of suspects, witnesses, and obviously, the victim…"

"I take it this is about your dad..."

Arya was glaring at him now, he noticed. "Yeah, it was. And you know what was so fucking shocking? Your name was on the suspects list. It said that my dad had visited you just days before his death. Is this something you just happened to forget to tell us? As in Jon and I?"

Gendry stared at her in shock, and opened his mouth to say something, but she cut him off.

"No, shut up. I can't believe you. You've spent all this time acting so normal and happy when really you could be some psychopathic murderer who is wanting to kill all the Stark's and…I can't believe you."

"Is that what you think?" he asked softly. "That I'm some murderer?"

"No!" she screamed, and suddenly Arya was crying, and when Gendry reached over to comfort her she glared at him. "Don't touch me. Instead, try and fucking explain."

"Look, Arya…I'm sorry, okay? I didn't tell you both because I knew that if I did, well…you'd overreact. Like now."

"Don't you think I would've overreact less if you'd told me earlier?"

"No," he admitted. "You would've still cracked. And don't say you wouldn't of. I know you, Arya." Even though he really didn't, because after all, it hadn't even been six months. "Arya…your father did visit me before his death, but I had no idea who he was. Even when I asked to move in with Jon, I still didn't know. It wasn't until my mum called and said that she wanted to talk that I found out. She then told me about my father, and then I realised that…that was why your dad visited. He visited several people, and I'm pretty sure all of them were…" Gendry stopped. "Arya, I can't say anymore."

Arya's hand collided with his cheek, and it burned so much that he stumbled back and clutched his cheek.

"You don't think I have the right to know? Is that it?" she shouted, raising her hand to slap him again but he quickly grabbed it. Arya at once tried to struggle against it, and raised her left hand but he grabbed that too.

"Please, Arya. I just…"

"I trust you," she whispered suddenly. "No…I trusted you."

"Arya, there's a reason," he began, but she wrenched out of his grip and took a few steps backward.

"Don't talk to me. Or Jon, for that matter. In fact, get out. My father was an extremely important man of Winterfell, and that means that well, so am I. So get out, or I'll make sure you get out of my home. Get out of this house. I don't ever want to see you again." Her voice was cold and distant, and even though there were tears in her eyes they seemed almost…blank.

"I'm sorry," he said instantly. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, but I promise you, Arya, one day I'll tell you." Don't you think you're overreacting? He wanted to scream that at her, but he didn't, because…why didn't he? Gendry didn't even know.

Arya hesitated for a moment, and bit her lip. "Sometimes sorry just doesn't cut it. My father meant everything to me. I loved him more than Catelyn, more than all of them, even Jon. He was always there for me, and I know he wasn't just killed like that. I want revenge. I know it's the Lannisters and Baratheons, yet clearly you can't see it. I thought you'd tell me. I thought you'd tell me why you didn't tell us that our dad visited you, and then we'd all go out and celebrate and get fucking smashed and forget about it, but I suppose not. You're just too stubborn, aren't you? Your problems aren't the most important things in the world."

"Neither are yours." When he realised what he had said, he wanted to take it back instantly. Her face changed instantly, and the rather emotionless void changed to a pool of hurt and anger. "Shit…Arya," he began, but she turned around and ran out the door.

"Don't come back!" she screamed behind her.

Gendry stared at the door numbly. I hate her, I hate her, I hate her, he thought, but he didn't. She was more than a roommate, more than a friend for whatever reason. He thought of her as someone he trusted and respected and thought of as a sibling…

Is that really what you think? a slimy voice in his head whispered, but he ignored it and fell to the floor.

Gendry sat there, on the kitchen floor as the time ticked away, listening to the clock tick and smelling the smoke as the food he was cooking slowly burned away. It had been Arya's favourite, chicken kebab's and rice, yet now…

Nothing really mattered.

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah I posted this awhile back but then deleted it because I hadn't edited it previously...but yeah, hope you enjoy!


End file.
